The Cloudy Side of Life
by HeadinTheClouds13
Summary: 25 Prompts, 7 Teenaged Boys, 1 Amused Author. Explore the lighter side of Dead Poets Society. For Thyme.
1. Rescue

**Disclaimer: No matter how many times I put it on my list to Santa, I do not own Dead Poets Society**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Rescue**

* * *

It was a calm bright Sunday afternoon and the girls of Henley Hall were quietly and dignifiedly going about their day in a ladylike manner. Or all the girls except for Ginny Danbury who had just bounded into the common room shouting and waving a paper about.

"It's an _emergency_!" she cried.

The other girls in the room however were used to this kind of behaviour went about their business, doing whatever the hell it is they do at Henley Hall. I dunno, sewing or whatever.

"Have you seen this!? _Girls_ admitted to _Welton_! _GIRLS! _Girls with ridiculous names! Just look here '_Ellenora Mayfield, Pilar Tylers, and Evangeline Crystal Rainbowchild.'_ Okay now that just sounds made up. Why do all the girls they admitted sound like perfume names!? Whatever happened to regular, normal names like, I dunno, _CAITLIN_!?" Ginny wailed stomping her Mary Jane covered feet.

What? You thought Ginny was quiet and sweet didn't you? Well she was, at least until she got cast as Hermia and started alternating between flinging herself about onto anything male that moved and screaming about anything that she liked, or disliked, or had no opinion on either way.

"Why is nobody getting upset about this! We have not only been dissed as an unintelligent group of young women not elligable for admission and these new flousies are going to elbow us out of our spot as avaliable girls for horny masses of adolensent males! _Why are we not protesting in the streets!?_"

Though Ginny knew the answer to that before she asked. Nobody was protesting because that would involve both effort and having to get up and move about.

"Do we want out brothers and cousins and boys-we-have-dibs-on to be snatched up and wooed by these harlots!?" She cried in a last ditch effort to get anyone to even look up and listen to what she was saying. No one ever even looked up from their needlework or copies of '_So You Want To Be A Housewife?_'

Ginny gave an exasperated sigh and threw her paper to the ground. "You know what, it's not worth it. If those poor defenseless boys are going to be rescued I guess I'll just have to do it myself!" and with on last dramatic sweeping hand gesture she stomped out of the room, a woman on a mission.

Five minutes later a blonde head popped out from behind a well worn copy of _'The Joy of Cooking'_

"What was she going on about?"

"Hmmm, something about rainbows I think."

"Figures."

**

* * *

****AN: What? Cloudy writing something plot (sort of) based!? It's a Festivus miracle! So seriously, be nice. **

**And about Ginny, I never bought what the revised 3rd said about her being really shy. If she was **_**really**_** that shy she wouldn't be playing Hermia. **


	2. When You Say Nothing At All

**Discliamer: No matter how many times I put it on my list to Santa, I do not own Dead Poets Society**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: When You Say Nothing At All**

* * *

That's when Meeks noticed Neil and Charlie were staring at each other. Not in a passionate 'I'm raping you with my eyes' kind of way, but in an intense angry macho way. For a moment he considered the possibility that it was maybe another ultimate staring contest, but, no Charlie was definitely blinking.

Glass still pressed to his lips Meeks' eyes darted between Neil and Charlie neither of whom had moved or spoken a word. Then it hit him, like a swift kick in the shins.

What had originally started off as their 1st year history teacher's clever way of getting the boys to be quiet had quickly developed into a war of wills. With people placing bets on who they thought could go the longest without speaking. But the last time anyone had actually had a silent contest was years ago. Back when girls still had cooties and Cameron was making a neat little profit on selling cootie shots for 15 cents each.

"You're having a silent contest aren't you?" He sighed.

Everyone else, (Besides Neil and Charlie who were now staring intensely at each other while shoveling large amounts of what may or may not be eggs into their mouths.) turned to glare at Meeks.

"Shhhhh! We're betting on who's going to talk first! While you were saying that somebody might have said something."

"Well yes, but Knox, somebody could have also said something while you were telling me off for talking." Meeks reasoned rolling his eyes and once again (and not for the last time that day) wondering if he was the only sane one in the group.

"Well...whatever, are you going to place a bet or what?" Knox asked begrudgingly.

The redhead's eyes lit up behind his glasses. "Sure, 20 bucks on Todd." Just because he didn't approve of their antics of this didn't mean he couldn't make money off of them.

* * *

**AN: Oh Meeks, I love you and your sly ways. He totally won that bet to, I mean come on, Charlie or Neil vs. Todd at being quiet? No contest. **

Steven Meeks should have known something was up when he sat down at his usual seat for breakfast. For one it was much, much too quiet. Especially considering that most days someone was begging him for answers from last night's homework the moment he sat down. For a brief moment his mind considered the happy possibility that maybe everyone had actually taken some initiative and completed all their homework. Though his mind quickly dismissed that theory and he snorted into his orange Tang.


	3. Frog

**Discliamer: No matter how many times I put it on my list to Santa, I do not own Dead Poets Society**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Frog**

Neil Perry generally liked Pitts as a lab partner. He was strange and enthusiastic but could also be quiet and serious. Sometimes managing to be all 4 at the same time. They even had a team name and letter jackets with 'Tall, Dark, and Strange' stitched into the back. But sometimes, such as during times like this, Neil wished he might have gotten someone a little more...plain as his lab partner. He was pretty sure Hopkins wouldn't be forcing him to handcuff himself to a supply cabinet to protest frog dissection.

"Frogs are people too" Pitts had stated the afternoon after they had been told frog dissections were fast approaching. Neil opened his mouth to protest that frog were _not_in fact people but Pitts was on a roll, "Albeit small, green people who live in water and eat flies and croak, but people none the less!" He punctuated his short speech with an "I Want You" hand gesture before continuing to pace in his room having gotten into one of his rare, but impressive outspoken moods.

Neil sighed rubbing a hand over his forehead. "Pitts, man, I understand what you're saying. I mean, I love Kermit as much as the next guy. But don't you think that refusing to do the assignment would not only be bad for our grades -your trying to get into Yale right?- but is maybe the wrong side of dramatic?"

Pitts stopped pacing between the door and the far wall, which was such a short distance across he couldn't even lie vertically without opening the door."What? We're not going to refuse to do the assignment. That would just make us look ridiculous." Neil sighed in relief at the time but the look on Pitts' face should have alerted him, that he in fact, had other plans in mind.

So, now here Neil was, handcuffed to a supply cabinet at four in the morning with Pitts fast asleep and drooling on his shoulder. His arm was asleep and his back was killing him from where the handles of the cabinet dug into his skin. At least he had talked Pitts out of the protest songs and their accompanying dance moves which looked a little bit too much like something from _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_to be coincidence. Though Pitts had whined and begged to be allowed to keep his protest sign, which was so badly illustrated he had spent the first hour and half of their all night camp out trying to convince Neil, yes, that's actually supposed to be a frog.

Neil had just finally started to drift off again when the first rays of sun glittered on the horizon of the autumn morning simply to hit him mockingly in the eyes.

"Ugh!" Neil jolted upwards and banging his head painfully in the process. Grumbling angrily under his breath about the sun and where it could go shine itself he reached over and shook Pitts awake.

"Wrong bed Charlie..."

"What!? No. Man, it's Neil. Wake up."

He opened his eyes lazily and looked up at Neil eyes partcially glazed over. "Mmmhgh?" He hummed trying to use the hand which was handcuffed to rub at his eyes before raising it up as high as it could go and glancing at it confusedly. Suddenly realisation hit his face. "OH! Right, yes, protest time! Where's my sign?"

But Pitts didn't have time to grab his sign (which had been conveniently kicked out of reach) before the sound of footfalls signalling their impending academic doom could be heard clearly coming down the hall. Neil sharply inhaled and held his breath while Pitts groped for his hand.

"UGH! Don't hold my hand! Your palms are all sweaty!" Neil hissed under his breath as a key turned and clicked in the lock. But Pitts only responded by squeezing their hands together more tightly. Neil opened his mouth the protest again when the overhead lights flicked on and and fluorescent beams attacked Neil's eyes.

"AHH! I've been blinded!"

There was a slightly pause and quite possibly the most terrifying silence of either of their lives before a very distinct Scottish voice started yelling.

"_What the hell is going on here_!?"

"Oh, Mr. McAllister, sir, what a surprise seeing you here." Pitts said waving and trying to act nonchalant. Neil elbowed him in the ribs.

"You said this was the science room!"

"They all look the same in the dark!"

Mr. McAllister however was not seeing the humor in the situation and looked as if his bow tie was on too tight as his face grew red and he wordlessly pointed out the door. Neil held up his hands apologetically as Pitts fiddled with the handcuffs. They scurried out of the room wordlessly before the door was slammed behind them so quickly Pitts' sign didn't make it out in one piece.

Neil rubbed at his wrist and glared at Pitts who just shrugged. "Well, it could have gone a lot worse for a first time."

Just then Charlie came down the hall and snatched the handcuffs out of Neil's hands, "Hey! Those are _mine _you thief!" Charlie cradled with surprising tenderness before turning and running back down the hall. "Meeks! I found them!"

"That's it, No more protests. _EVER_."

**AN: Oh Charlie, you kinky bastard. But on a serious note you guys have no idea how relieved I was to see people first off, reviewed, and second off (secondly?) seemed to have liked the first two chapters. If you wanna see the prompts list I'm using you can check on Thyme's page (it's not on mine because it'll ruin the feung shui). **


	4. Yours and Mine

**Disclaimer: No matter how many times I put it on my list to Santa, I do not own Dead Poets Society**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Yours and Mine**

The first time Todd found something of Neil's mixed in with his he smiled at both Neil's slight untidiness and his friendly and refreshing lack of boundaries.

The ninth time Todd found something of Neil's mixed in with his threw it across the room onto Neil's desk and made a mental note to tell him to stop leaving his junk around.

The sixteenth time Todd found something of Neil's mixed in with his he turned slowly to glare at Neil before throwing hard so it would hit Neil where he was sitting and stomped out of the room.

The twentieth time Todd found something of Neil's mixed in with his he went and got the masking tape and started making a line down the centre of the room.

"Erm, Todd? What exactly are you doing?" Neil asked looking over the worn top of his script.

"I'm making a line." He stood up and admired his handy work. A line in masking tape was more or less dividing the room equally, running vertically from the door to the radiator. Neil raised an eyebrow, which seeing how prominent they were on his narrow face was a fairly dramatic expression.

"I can see that dummy, but what's it for?"

At that Todd started to lose some of his nerve as Neil settled farther into his spot on the window sill, arms crossed smugly. "It's-It's just that I would really like it if...if...you know..." He waved his hand, masking tape still clutched in the other.

"You know?..." Neil mimed his hand wave gesture back.

"I mean, it's just...t-that I keep finding your stuff all over my side of the room and it's...you know, annoying."

"_Your _side of the room? Isn't it _our_ room?" Neil grinned at Todd cockily. "All for one and one for all kind of thing?"

Todd faltered at that. Maybe he was being a little bit dramatic. He loosened his clutch on the masking tape and sat down heavily on his bed.

"OW! What the-! NEIL!" Todd reached behind him and pulled a small gray oval with googly eyes from where it had been hiding within his covers. "That's it! Keep your stupid rock and all the rest of your junk on your side of the room!" Todd threw the rock across the room, bouncing it off the far wall with a crack. Someone on the other side responded by pounding a fist on the wall.

"Shut up!"

Neil however had dove from his favoured spot on the radiator and was searching frantically through his half made pile of bedsheets for his beloved pet rock. "Oberon! Where are you buddy!?" Neil grasped at the small gray rock and brought it up to his heart. Cradling it with his hand and kissing it. "Poor baby, did mean Todd hurt you?" he cooed to the rock.

"Neil! It's a stupid rock! IT CAN'T FEEL ANYTHING!" Todd shouted throwing the masking tape onto the floor where it rolled and ended up under the radiator.

"YES HE CAN! SHUT UP!" Neil shouted as he threw Oberon the rock onto his bed.

"WELL KEEP HIM ON YOUR SIDE OF THE LINE!"

"OBERON'S AN INDEPENDENT PARTY AND CAN GO WHEREVER HE WANTS!"

"NO HE'S NOT! HE'S A ROCK WITH GOOGLY EYES!"

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" And with that Neil lunged across the room and tackled Todd, halfway onto his bed and half on the floor. They were both panting and glaring at each other, arms gripping hard enough to bruise. Finally it was Todd who asked the question Neil, Todd, and Charlie (who had his ear pressed up against the door) were all dying to know the answer to;

"Uh...are you going to beat me up...or are we g-gonna make-out?"

**AN: Oberon the rock, I love you so. I took him with me when I saw Midsummer Night's Dream at the Stratford Festival and the dude who played Puck said he was the 'coolest pet rock ever'. **


	5. Morning After The Party

**Disclaimer: My New Year's Resolution? Gain the rights to DPS. **

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Morning After The Party**

* * *

The first thing Charlie noticed was that he was sleeping in a bathtub. The second thing Charlie noticed was that Knox was sleeping in this bathtub too. The third thing Charlie noticed was Meeks had also managed to squeeze himself into the surprisingly spacious claw-foot bathtub. But the roomy tub really wasn't all that surprising considering the bathroom also had a chandelier and a chocolate waterfall. Charlie jolted upright at that. Chocolate waterfall? Where the hell was he? And why was he sleeping in a bathtub with Knox and Meeks? He wondered for a very brief moment if they had had a threesome, but dismissed it quickly on the grounds that if they had Knox wouldn't have been wearing full scuba gear. And besides, Meeks didn't like to share.

Climbing out of the bathtub Charlie was hit with a realisation so sudden and vivid he actually had to grab onto the towel heating rack to steady himself. It had been Knox's 18th birthday party. Though calling what had happened the night before a party was a little bit like calling The Mona Lisa a doodle. No this had been the real deal, with presents and a money fountain and a Swedish supermodel they had just happened to find last minute. Though what parts of this were true and what parts were imagined due to large amounts of Mountain Dew were all starting to blur together. As Charlie stumbled around what he assumed to be a posh hotel room he started second guessing whether the Swedish supermodel might have actually just been Pitts doing an ABBA homage.

Stumbling out of the bathroom still unsure of whether he was actually drunk and where he was Charlie found himself tripping over the sleeping form of Cameron who had for some unknowable reason tied his necktie around his head thinking it'd make him look hip. Pitts was slumped over a few feet away clapping his hand lazily and staring up in amazement at the lighting which flickered on and off overhead. He turned and saw Charlie staring at him and grinned back goofily.

"Man, this place is the tops." He sighed, content and went back to clapping. Charlie raised an eyebrow. This was strange. He was almost one hundred percent certain that he wasn't drunk which meant that there was no way Pitts was drunk. He guessed the state everyone appeared to be in was more for show than anything else. Charlie shrugged. Whatever, the party had clearly had it's intended effect and Charlie didn't mind the state that everyone seemed to be in.

Though the Swedish Supermodel making out with Spaz in the corner might have been pushing it a bit.

* * *

**A.N. Uhhhhhhh....yes, I'm not even sure where this came from. It all just sort of tumbled together over the span of a couple of days so please forgive me if it only makes borderline sense. **


	6. Repair

**Disclaimer: My New Year's Resolution? Gain the rights to DPS. **

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Repair**

* * *

"What are you gonna call her?"

"Something classy, like Bernadette, or Claudette, or Collette. 'Ette' is a very classy sound"

"Okay, whatever. Hand me that thing-a-jig?"

"This?"

"No, the other one, the one with the thingy on the circle ma-jig."

Charlie stood watching as Meeks grabbed the shiny metal...thingy and rolled back under the car. Though calling the heap of scrap metal and rusted red paint a car was a bit insulting to cars everywhere. Just a stupid junky old convertible-Or maybe it's roof was just missing- that Meeks had bought. Though he had to strike a deal with Cameron to pay for it, and now he was overseeing all reconstruction no matter how hopeless it seemed. Also he got to name the car which was just _not _fair.

"I don't even know why you guys are bothering. It's just a stupid car."

He stuck out his chin as if daring anyone to contradict him. Though he guessed that the chin thing might not be as effective as he thought it was

"Don't you _dare_, you take that back _right now_!" Cameron had stomped up to him and was wagging a finger in his face. Whoa, whoa, you did not just start wagging fingers in Charlie Dalton's face unless you had a death wish. Or rather a getting-your-fingers-snapped-off wish.

"Get your fingers outta my face!"

"Apologize to Selma!"

"Selma!?"

"It's a sexy car name!"

"Oh please, Cameron you wouldn't know sexy if it came up and gave you a lap dance!"

"Meeks! Meeks! Back me up here! Selma is not a sexy name, right?"

"Errrr...I'd rather not take sides." His voice came out muffled from beneath the car. "I'm almost done here anyways, Cameron if you wanna head back."

Cameron gave Charlie one last finger wag and it took all of Charlie's self disapline not to bite it. Then he turned on his heel and stomped off in his shiny black leather shoes. Seriously? Who wears black leather shoes into a garage.

"Is he gone yet?"

"Yes."

Meeks' pale freckled arms reached onto the ledge of the car and he pulled himself out from under it. "I thought he'd never leave. I do not want to be around when he figures out this thing is never going anywhere."

Charlie gawked at him. "You're kidding me! If it's never going to work then why the _hell _are you spending all day out here with _him_ where you could be having fun with _me_!?"

Meeks shrugged and stood up, pulling his t-shirt back on. (_Radio Engineers Do It With Frequency_) "Well, I mean the backseat is still perfectly good..."

"I love your car."

* * *

**A.N. I actually only started this with the idea for Meeks shirt which I REALLY wanted to work in somewhere and I ended up with this little Charlie/Redheads sandwich. **


	7. Water

**Disclaimer: My New Year's Resolution? Gain the rights to DPS. **

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Water**

* * *

They had discovered the miracle that was Knox's tap water sometime between year one and year two after running around for hours in the Overstreet's backyard playing a game called 'Run-tackle-jump-tag'. It didn't really have any real rules but they thought it was a manly game and that was all that had mattered.

The brave ragamuffin team all shuffled into Knox's kitchen exhausted and covered in reddish brown dirt they had smudged onto their cheeks like war paint. Knox jumped up onto a counter and grabbed six cups out of the cupboard, not because he was too short to reach, but because he wanted to prove he could jump up onto the counter. Plus he wanted to feel taller, Gerard and Neil's growth spurts over the last year weren't doing anything for his ego.

"Water? _Really_? Classy refreshments Knoxious." Charlie snorted looking at the green plastic cup he had been handed filled with water.

"Shut up. My parents are on this health-trip, they said coke would burn a hole through my stomach if I drank too much." He shrugged "So it's water or organic raw beet juice. Make your choice."

Charlie made a face but drained his cup anyways and everyone else followed, the adorable sheep that they are. "Oh. My. God. Knox...you water, it tastes..." Neil trailed off looking down into his cup in awe while everyone else murmured in agreement.

"Like water?" Knox supplied helpfully mystified by the reactions everyone was having over plain water. Maybe they were mocking him? He should have just given them the damn beet juice.

"Man, you don't even know. This is the most amazing water I've ever had." Gerard played with his cup and tipped it back again trying to catch any remaining drops. Knox shook his head they had to be kidding or making fun of him. Or both.

"Alright! Laugh it up! It's just water so I'm _sorry_ I don't have coke or orange juice or anything else you asses wanted. So you can all shut up and come off of it." He threw his red plastic cup on the floor so hard it bounced and stomped off.

"What's his problem?"

"Dunno."

"I wonder if we could bottle this and sell it." Cameron wondered eyeing the sink.

"Bottled water? That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

* * *

**A.N. Bottled water,that'd never catch on. Also, just in case you don't know year 1 and 2 are like grade 7 and 8. I prefer to use years since that's how most boarding schools measure it. **


	8. Drinks

**Disclaimer: My New Year's Resolution? Gain the rights to DPS. **

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Drinks**

**For DeadPoet0712 who wanted Knox with a side of Charlie bromance, to whom I apologize profusely for this being inexcusably late. **

* * *

Now, for the most part Knox was a pretty decent guy to live with. He was fairly neat, paid his rent on time, and was generally a good guy to be with. So okay, maybe he was a little bit naggy about cleaning and was always going on about one girl or another, but those habits were pretty much just ignored with a shrug and a nod. But now as Charlie stared into the fridge he knew it was time to draw the line.

"KNOOOOOX!" He waited pulling the offending carton out of the fridge and slaming it on the narrow ledge masquerading as a countertop. "KNOOOOX!" He yelled again. He had to have heard him, it wasn't as if they had all that much space or the walls were thick.

"What!?" Knox stuck his head out of the tiny bathroom, hair wet and towel draped around his waist.

"Don't you 'what' me! You know what you did!" He grabbed the carton and shook it in his direction. "This! What the hell is this!"

Knox blinked at him. "Orange juice?" He answered slowly afraid this might be some sort of strange test. Like that time Charlie had started jumping on his bed at night so it'd bang against the wall just to see if Knox'd say anything. They've been that way since they first met, trying to be grown-up with their bowl haircuts and chubby cheeks. Charlie pulling one act or another and waiting to see what happened.

"Orange juice." Charlie talked slowly, as if to a child "With _pulp_."

Knox threw up his hands. "Oh for the love of god Charlie! Okay, sorry how dare I buy groceries that _I_ like with _my_ money." It was a powerful and authoritative stance, only ruined when Knox's towel started to slip and he had to grab it at comically.

Charlie snorted."Whatever." The moment had past and they were back to being roommates/best friends rather than opposing sides in a battle over orange juice. Knox grabbed the jug from him and took a swig. "Mmmmm, pulpy."

"Ugh! Don't drink from the jug!"

"You girl."

"I don't want your germs!"

"I don't have cooties Charlie." He held out the jug like a peace offering and Charlie shrugged it off.

"I don't even like orange juice that much anyways." He mumbled scrounging around the cupboards. Knox took another gulp of juice and rolled his eyes whacking Charlie affectionately on the back as he passed. "Idiot."

In the bathroom Knox got in the shower and continued where he left off grabbing for the shampoo bottle blindly.

"CHARLIE!? WHAT THE HELL! Shampoo and conditioner _in one_!?"

* * *

**AN: I have a feeling that the living together probably didn't last all that long. There both such drama queens it could never last. **


	9. Mirror

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Mirror**

* * *

It had started off like any other Friday night with the seven of them gathered in the cave huddled into their hooded coats against the November chill. The meeting had sailed quickly through the readings and now it had broken off into an chaotic jumble of conversation and the occasional ring of laughter echoing out into the frozen night.

A lull in the conversation had prompted Charlie to light a cigarette and paused dramatically after taking a drag, holding the smoke in before exhaling. "I was thinking..."

There were some snorts. "That's a first." Someone mumbled.

"I was _thinking_..." Charlie paused again to make sure everyone was paying attention. "What'd we be like if we were all _boys_?" A moment of silence passed and Charlotte 'Nuwanda' Dalton took a satisfied drag glad that she had once again rendered everyone silent with a comment. That was until Cameron felt the need to comment.

"What a _stupid_question." Richelle Cameron tossed her red hair over her shoulder and rolled her eyes. "_Who_ even thinks about things like that?"

"Well clearly _I _do. And it's not stupid. I mean _you're _practically a boy already."

Nell rolled her eyes. "If you guys were boys you'd be exactly the same, only instead of just bickering you'd be fighting for your 'manliness'!" She flexed her biceps and winked.

Charlie just shook her head and threw the dregs of her cigarette into the makeshift fire. "You know I'd be a hot guy Perry." She lowered her voice comically and wrapped an arm around Stephanie Meeks. "Hey baby, you can call me...uh...what exactly is the masculine version of Nuwanda?"

"I thought it was a boys name." Noelle leaned forward and frowned.

"No! It's a girl's name...like Chris."

"Chris is _not _a_ girls name_!"

Charlie snorted. "Oh, ya sure. But it doesn't matter, you guys can't get together anyways. I mean, you'd be Noelle Noel if you ever got married. How stupid does that sound?" She looked around for support. "Meeksie, you agree right?" she pouted at the girl still trapped under her arm.

The redheads mouth opened once and then she stopped, reconsidered her answer and shrugged. "I have no opinion on the matter."

"Hey if you do ever marry Chris can I be a bridesmaid!" Gerri burst out suddenly twirling her thick hair around her finger. Prompting everyone else to start throwing in their two cents on the matter of Noelle's imaginary future wedding.

"No way! I'm the maid of honor!"

"Please! Me and Noelle have been best friends since forever!"

"Would you all shut up!"

"Charlie! That's my thigh!"

"Um? Sorry to, um, interrupt..."

Everyone turned in shook to the quiet timid voice coming from the corner. "I just mean...aren't we supposed to be, r-reading poetry?"

"Oh. Yes, right...where were we..." Nell squeezed Anderson's arm affectionately and picked up the small blue book starting up from where she had left off.

_Meanwhile, in another universe. _

"Hey you guys ever wonder what we'd be like as _girls_?"

* * *

**A.N. Todd doesn't get mentioned by name because I didn't know what to call girl!Todd. There literally is no feminine equivalent. I also now totally ship girl!Meeks and girl!Charlie...because ya. They'd have pretty hair. **

**OH! And I got a bag today with the whole 'Two roads diverged...' Frost quote. I'm so (unashamedly) excited about it! **


	10. What Dreams Are Made Of

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: What Dreams Are Made Of**

It was fairly obvious to say that Steven Meeks and Gerard Pitts were best friends. It was like saying the sky was blue, or the grass was green, or that Neil and Todd were together. It just went without saying. People watched enviously as they laughed at inside jokes and planned and plotted like true partners in crime, wishing they could have a best friend like that. Though on this particular Sunday afternoon all was not good in Mitts Friendship-Land because Pitts was in love.

He wasn't quite the romantic Knox was and definitely not as prone to falling in and out of love with girls, but he did fall every once and a while and he fell hard. Her name was Lizzie and she had randomly walked into their lives asking is they could give Neil a chemistry book he had forgotten at Henley Hall. Meeks hadn't really though much about her. She had that unremarkable light brown hair of the masses and a gap between her two front teeth, not exactly a great beauty. Also apparently she had run straight through a glass window once. He hadn't asked how Pitts had known that.

Anyways, it wasn't so much the girl that mattered but the state of mind the femine form had put Pitts in. Musing on beauty was all fine and good during english class or Society meetings but it was mostly just iritating while you were trying to solve an equation or complete a circuit and he'd blurt out some sentimental gibberish like; "What are dreams made of?"

"Electrical impulses in your brain trying to make sense of what happened to you during the day with information from your subconscious."

The worst part was everyone else, including Mr. Keating, was supporting his madness. Especially Knox who all of a sudden had found another romantic soul to write bad poetry with. Leaving Meeks to ticker with the radio alone, and eat lunch alone, and study alone, and generally mope about over being alone.

So for days and days he moped alone in his room and that's where Pitts found him when he came bursting through the door. "MEEKS!" He grabbed him right out of his desk chair, lifted him up and spun him around and then gave him a hug. "I accidentally on purpose ran into her at the drug store and asked her out! She said yes! She said _yes_! We're going out on Friday!"

Meeks glared at him. "Don't do that!"

"What?"

"Don't do the barging into the room, and the picking me, and the spinning, and the hugging, and the _abandoning _me for days!"

Pitts' face fell. "Oh. Sorry." He turned away and wrapped his arms around himself. "I'm so sorry Steven, that for once I really like a girl and that she liked me too and-" he added a fake sob and threw himself onto his bed.

"Okay, okay, sorry, just stop making me feel like a jerk."

Pitts bounced back out right. "Okay! Hey, you should help me pick out what I'm going to wear! Maybe the brown blazer? Or the green one with the piping? Or-"

Okay, so maybe the moping about alone wasn't so bad after all.

**A.N. I've noticed my Meeks is very angry sometimes. But more in a 'I'm surrounded by idiots!' than 'I hate these people!' type way. **


	11. Punch

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Punch**

It had just started out as something to do for their biweekly wacky adventure fun times. No one though Neil or Pitts took the Harvard Vs. Yale stuff all that seriously anyways, no more than playful banter whenever they all got together. Turns out they were wrong, because when Harvard completely tore Yale apart at their annual football game and the playful banter turned nastier and nastier until it was a full blown fist-fight. True, no one actually got all that hurt considering Neil had on two foam hands and Pitts has bad hand eye coordination. Now, not even a week later they weren't talking to each other and the group relations were strained as everyone divided up onto different sides.

"I don't see why I should have to apologize! It's not my fault his school can't put together a half decent team!" Neil exclaimed dramatically when Todd had even suggested that maybe he was a little bit out of line at the bar after the game.

"I didn't say apologize, you know...just..." Todd struggled to convey his meaning and waved his hands about uselessly a few times.

Neil raised his eyebrows and smirked. "Pretend his team doesn't totally suck and mine didn't totally kickass?"

"Well...maybe?" Todd looked at him pleadingly "It's really making the whole group tense." Neil snorted and put his arm around him and gave him a friendly squeeze, which Todd didn't appreciate.

"Don't worry so much about it. It'll all work out."

Meanwhile at Yale:

"Why should I have to apologize! It's not my fault his team is a bunch of cheating meat heads. Everyone could see it! I mean the ref was obviously paid off or something." Pitts grumbled crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. Meeks sighed, he had heard a lot of these conspiracy theories over the last three weeks. "Plus!" He added with renewed enthusiasum, "I mean, their team is the _Crimson_, a colour is _not_ a mascot!"

"Yes, yes, Harvard's evil, and corrupt, and over-funded, and their board of directors kick puppies, and blah blah blah." Meeks rolled his eyes and rested his chin on the back of the chair he was sitting in backwards. "Okay, I get it. Now can we _please _do something other than whine about it?"

Pitts' eyes lit up with something like insanity. "Meeks! You're a _genius_!"

"So I've been told."

"Instead of just talking about Harvard, I should do something to take them down!"

"Uh, no! That's not at all what I meant." But his words were meaningless Pitts was on a roll pacing back and forth across his dorm room.

"Yes, a protest or a petition is what this needs! I mean and it's not like I'll have a hard time finding supporters, this is Yale after all." Pitts sat down at his desk and started writing rapidly, making plans to eliminate Harvard once and for all. He was so caught up in his plot he never once noticed Meeks banging his forehead repeatedly on the back of the chair.

"Why did I agree to help you with this again?" Meeks grumbled as he wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and pulled his hat lower so only a few resilient curls peeked out from under it.

"Because you're my best friend, why would you even ask that?" He gave him a sad pouty look and Meeks sighed. Goddamn puppy dog eyes. Pitts seemed satisfied with his defeated sigh and went back to handing out flyers and trying to get people to sign the petition he had drafted up in the early hours of the morning. A surprising number of people had actually signed the thing and Meeks had no idea if the majority were joking or actually hated Harvard. Also a lot of these seemed to be girls who would stop to sign and chat up Gerard. Apparently college chicks dug the tall, dark, and strange thing he had going on. This though ended up being the thing that saved Meeks from another few hours of standing around in the cold feeling stupid.

"Hi. Are you the petition guy?" Meeks whirled around, the owner of the voice was a girl with some sort of knitted flower scarf wrapped liberally around her neck.

"Uh, no, that would be the tall guy over there. I'm just witnessing the madness."

Scarf Girl frowned slightly and took out a spiral bound notebook. "Oh."

"We're friend though, if you need to talk to him."

"Really!? Do you think maybe he'd do an interview for me? I'm writing a paper on the dynamics of the Harvard/Yale rivalry and this is just perfect timing."

Meeks just shrugged, but Scarf Girl grinned enthusiastically and marched up to Gerard. Meeks watched for a minute as they talked, and eventually she handed him a slip of paper and walked off waving girlishly over her shoulder.

"Well that was weird." He couldn't help but blurt out as soon as Pitts came up to him smiling madly hugging the clipboard to his chest.

"Her name's Jillian, she wants to talk about my revolutionary approach to the rivalry over dinner. Isn't that great?"

"Sure, great fine. Can we please go somewhere _warm_ now? Like maybe, I don't know, _back inside_."

Pitts set off quickly in long strides with Meeks almost jogging to keep up. "Sure, but there's something I need to do first."

Meanwhile at Harvard:

"The phone's ringing."

"I know that, dummy."

"Aren't you going to get it?"

"I'm all cozy and warm."

"Neeeeil."

"Fine" Neil dislodged himself from where he had snuggled into Todd on the coach and hauled himself up with great effort and trekked into the tiny neighboring kitchen to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"NEIL!"

"...Pitts?"

"Neil! I just wanted to say, you and your stupid evil school might just be the best thing that ever happened to me!"

"Wait? What!?" But Neil's question was only answered by the buzz of the dial tone. He shrugged, hung up the phone and made his way back onto the coach.

"What was that about?" Todd asked pulling the blanket up so Neil could slide back under.

"Things working themselves out."

**A.N. Done! Finally! I think this is probably the longest fic I've ever written. It sort of went in a bunch of different unexpected directions but I think I'm happy with the way it turned out, though mostly just happy it's done. **

**You guys know the drill, read, review, rinse, repeat if desired. **


	12. Preoccupation

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Preoccupation**

Once upon a time, seven teenaged boys stood around in a word document looking mildly confused and startled, but mostly determined as they examined their surroundings.

"Heeeeeellloo!" Charlie called into the white void of the document, "Man this is _freaky_." He turned in a circle before placing his hands on his hips and looked up. "Are you telling me this is_ actually_ where everything gets written? I mean it's so...plain."

Yes, alright Charlie sorry I didn't have time to make it into a magical land of gumdrops and rainbows before you guys showed up. Or as I recall demanded I let you use me to make a public service announcements to the fangirls. You should be more grateful, I could be exploring greater literary horizons. Like writing fic about Meeks getting a tongue piercing. Sacrifices are being made people.

"Yes, a piece of literary genius I'm sure. But this is _important_." Cameron said slowly as if he was addressing a small child.

Yes, fine, sure whatever, just get on with it.

Neil cleared his throat and looked in the direction he guessed was forward. "Uh, hey everyone. First of all I want to say how amazing and awesome and talented and brilliant and funny and-"

"Please stop offering us as rewards for reviews." Meeks interjected calmly. "We're busy and don't have time to spend _x _number of minutes in location _y_, as much as I'm sure most of us would like to."

"I wouldn't." Cameron muttered under his breath.

That's because no one ever picks you, I mean you're not the hottest and you're not the smartest and you're not the nicest. I mean you aren't even really _evil_ I think you should look into being more evil. Evil is sexy. OH! You could grow a goutee, the most evil form of facial hair.

"Yes, right, on topic now. Listen, guys, we really do appreciate you." Neil waved his hands about looking for the right way to phrase his next sentence. "But, this isn't a kissing booth. For everyone other than Charlie I mean."

Charlie snapped his head around. "Hey! What's that supposed to mean!"

Uh, that you're the ketchup of the fandom. You go with everything. Though you go especially well with Meeks...

"Hmmph, well I think you're all just jealous, because I'm the favourite." He crossed his arms childishly. "Hey! I did not! Stop describing me."

Pitts' turned his head suddenly. "Envious you mean?"

"What?"

"Envious, if we were jealous of you that would mean that we all wanted you."

KETCHUP!

"But," He continued, "If we're envious that means that we want all the fangirls to love us instead of you." Charlie looked at Pitts wide eyed. "I can draw a diagram if you want."

Knox raised his hand. "Uh, where exactly is this going? What we're we supposed to be talking about again?"

Fucked if I know.

"Fangirls, cave make outs, bottles of Neil's scent." Todd waved a hand dismissively. "That sort of thing."

The boys all "ooooohh"-ed in realisation and nodded to themselves. "Right, so in summary, stop being so freaking creative in getting reviews, go back to offering cookies and hugs and that stuff."

Seriously? That's it? I am so banishing you for wasting my time. And with a slight pop the boys disapeared. Well all except for Meeks, who suddenly found himself the proud owner of a tongue ring.

Now, where were we?

**A.N. Weird random idea I had, I've always loved when people offer 'stuff' in exchange for reviews (hell I do it all the time). In fact....**

**REVIEW AND YOU WILL RECIEVE: FANDOM KETCHUP! Goes great with everything! **


	13. Virulence

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Virulence**

_Attempt #1:_

"Knox, this book is _amazing_. It's deep and funny and it really gets under your skin and stuff. I mean there's this story about these two dudes in Europe...Well never mind, you can just read it and find out yourself!" Neil pressed the book into Knox's hands. It was old and cracked and bent in places unlike the books in Welton's library which were always kept in pristine condition. Knox flipped the book over.

"_Walden?_" He raised an eyebrow. Keating had spent a whole class ranting and raving about this book, and the contrary part of Knox just wanted to press the book back in Neil's hands. But, if he did that Neil'd get that disappointed sad look as if someone had kicked a puppy and Knox'd be left looking like some sort of villain. Also, it was probably against the unwritten rules of the Dead Poets Society to refuse. This was Henry David Thoreau, he had come up with their slogan for crying out loud. Oh crap, Neil had been talking this whole time Knox had been doing an inner monologue. Quick! Nod and look interested.

"Mhmmmm. Well that sure does sound interesting Neil. I'll make sure to read this right away." Knox tucked the book under his arm and escaped down the hall to his room where he promptly threw the book on his desk and forgot about it.

Or he had forgotten about it until and week later when Neil came bounding down the hall with Todd in toe and asked him if he had finished yet. "Oh ya, it was, uh, very..." Crap, adjective! What's a good yet totally vague adjective! "Enthralling!" He finally annouced much louder than necessary.

"I knew you'd like it. I mean, it's probably not going to help you win Chris over, but it really makes you think."

"Mhmmmm, yes, especially that thing, with the guys? On the trip? That part was...uh...enthralling? Anyways gotta go, bye!" And for the second time in a week he did the dignified thing and ran away.

"Does he seem sort of...jumpy to you?" Todd asked after the jacket clad figure of Knox had disapeared around a corner.

Neil shrugged. "Todd my friend, that is merely the charm of him."

_Attempt #2: _

It was never a good sign when Charlie cornered you after class and said that he had something exciting to show you. The last time he had done that to Knox they had been 13 and the exciting thing had been a a frog. This time though it was a book. Which was actually significantly more terrifying that the frog had been. Especially since this wasn't just any book.

"_Walden_." Knox said flatly recognizing the cover almost instantly. Though Charlie's copy, while not as beat up as Neil's had lightning bolts doodled all over it as well as a heart with smudgy initials.

"Ya, I just finished it. You should read it too. I mean I know you're not really into books but hey, if I can read it anyone can." Charlie said throwing an arm around Knox's shoulder as they walked down the hall. Knox nodded blankly and stared at the book. Maybe he should read it, it would stop him having to make excuses to leave every time Neil mentioned it. Which would be significantly helpful considering he was talking about it almost nonstop. He could start right after dinner and maybe have it done in a couple of days. It would cut into his thinking about Chris time but it might be worth it to get everyone off his back and maybe even impress Mr. Keating.

Knox shook off Charlie's arm. "Ya, yup sure, I'll start this tonight." Of course, he never did. Instead he made a long list of words that rhymed with Chris and wrote bad poems for the next week and a half using a different word from the list every night. He had made it all the way to piss when Charlie cornered him again after class.

"You done yet?" He didn't wait for an answer "Great because I want to talk to you about what you thought about what he said about clothing. You know, how we're cooking ourselves? And..."

Oh crap. Knox scrambled for something to say. Think! What would be sure to distract Charlie? "Hey!" he blurted rather loudly than necessary. "Meeks is looking for you!"

"Why? Is he going to apolgize?" Charlie asked snidely crossing his arms over his chest.

Knox blinked at him. "Uh, yes, I think maybe that was what he wanted to say to you. Something about apologizing. What did he do?"

Charlie glared. "He said he didn't like _Walden_. That maybe Thoreau had a few good comments to make on life but that most of it was just filler. Can you believe that!?" Charlie looked at him expectantly and Knox wasn't sure if he was supposed to respond or if Charlie was just going to jump ahead without waiting for an answer. After staring at each other blankly for a few moments Knox guessed he had batter say something.

"No, I can't believe that." He answered feeling it was safest and probably what Charlie wanted to hear. Charlie kept staring straight ahead but nodded grimly.

"It's because he's an academic. He's just not like me and you Knoxious, he doesn't understand it, but hey maybe it's not his fault." Charlie shrugged and started to climb the stairs before stopping and turning back to look at Knox who was trying not to look to relieved that Charlie was leaving. "But....you know, if it had been anyone else...I would have kicked them out of the club."

Knox nodded and watched Charlie climb the stairs for a minute before bolting back down the hall. He had to finish that goddamn book.

_Attempt #3_

Oh dear god, Knox was going to die. He was pretty sure he could only understand about 75% of what Thoreau was saying and a lot of what he was getting was stuff that he had already repeated 3 or 4 times before. He was so absorbed in trying to understand what the hell a very detailed description of building a crappy house had to do with living deliberately that he never heard the bell ringing signalling the end of class.

"Ahhhhh, Mr. Overstreet, absorbed in the works of Thoreau are we?" Mr. Keating asked sounding so insanely pround that Knox just lost it.

"No I am not absorbed! I am trying to figure out what the hell everyone else is going on about! This just a bunch of obvious semi-poetic gibberish thrown together with some disturbingly tender descriptions of a stupid pond! If you love it so damn much why the hell don't you marry it!" and with that Knox threw the book on the floor and stomped out of the room before poking his head back through the doorway. "And I don't care if it's you're favourite book and I get kicked out of the club! I'd rather stick pins in my eyes than finish that!" And with that dramatic slightly disturbing image Knox turned on his heel and angrily stomped away.

Mr. Keating watched awestruck for a moment before looking at the book on the floor. Maybe he should actually try reading it past the introduction sometime he thought picking it up off the floor. But probably not.

**A.N. It took me 3 weeks to read **_**Walden**_** and I'm still not sure whether I liked it or not. Anyways, hopefully don't get blasted for kind of implying **_**Walden**_** sucks. And hopefully the fact that this is extra long will make up for not updating a whole lot. **

**-C**

**P.S. I'm not really sure if this can count as Virulence, but I'm the author so I make the rules. **


	14. Weather

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Weather**

* * *

_Monday, September 21, 1981_

_From the Desk of Richard S. Cameron III IV_

Dear Father,

School is as enjoyably challenging as ever. With the exception of a new biology teacher who wastes 10 to 20 minutes a day of class time by having his classes take part out in the forested areas of the property. He insists that using these application based techniques for the study of plant cells help many students to better understand the concepts. Even though we have not yet started to study plants nor cells. I have thus written a letter to the headmaster address my concerns on this issue.

On a better note I have made dorm leader this year. Though I accept and appreciate this leadership opportunity I am troubled by the choice of my female dorm leader counterpart. She often ignores and encourages reckless behaviour in the girls dormitories. I don't know what the school board was thinking when they allowed females to be admitted here, even if officially it's still two separate schools.

The weather here is quite agreeable.

Yours Sincerely

_Richard S. Cameron III IV_

Dear Dad,

How am _I_ doing? Really? You really want to know how I'm doing?

Well let's see, first of all you let mom dump me into this stupid boarding school even though you're always going on about what a repressive environment it was and blah, blah, blah, which I'm pretty sure makes you both a jerk and a hypocrite. Secondly, one (or both) of the Overstreet twins has started following me around spouting bad poetry, like Romeo if you had whacked him in the side of the head a couple of times with a two by four. And of course, I can't even confront him about it because there are two of them and I can't tell them apart!

Oh and thirdly, I met Charlie's daughter Amelie, she's like 3 years older than me and wears a lot of eyeliner and swears in french and always smells like these clove cigarettes that her and Emerson Anderson sneak off to go smoke in the trunk room. I'm pretty sure she hates my guts. Though I honestly don't blame her, I mean what am I supposed to say? 'Hi, your dad totally abadoned you to be with my dad and has spent the last three years bonding with me and now he sends me care packages filled with alarming quantities of soup.'!

Seriously dad, I don't know how much more of this I can take. Half the people here seem to hate me and the other half are always making 'Meeks inherits the Earth' jokes like they're oh so clever. I want to yell at people half the time and cry the ther half and neither of these things seems okay here. The weather is kind of nice though, I never thought their would be so many fallen leaves in hell.

I miss you. A lot.

-_Sofie_

P.S. Please tell Charlie to stop sending me condoms. The soup is good though.

Dad,

They actually have a period for us to write letters home. Mandatory letter writing. It's ridiculous, there's even a black board with _instructions_ on how to write a letter. Let's see;

_Step 1: Address the receiver of your letter. _Okay, check.

_Step 2: Assure the receiver that you are having a wonderful and academically stimulating time at school. _Well, I mean I'm not dead, or dying, or starving, or fighting in a war, or at odds with the Swedish mob so I guess things could be worse than being at this school. I'm not even going to get into the academically stimulating bit because that just sounds like...brain sex or something.

_Step 3: Inform the reciever of the interesting classes and extra curricular activities you've been engaged in at Welton Academy/Welton Hall. _Engaged in? Don't they mean _assigned to_? You told me that they did things that way when you went here but I didn't think it'd still like that. I got rowing though, I don't see why you wanted to do so badly. Mostly it just involves getting yelled at by that knob Cameron to row faster. The classes kind of suck, actually mandatory letter writing has been the best class all day.

_Step 4: Tell them about your friends, who's your roommate this year? _Amelie wants to start some sort of secret society thing, or restart it I guess. Her dad sort of accidentally told her about it, some sort of poetry cult thing. Do you know about this? Cause I know you and her dad used to be friends when you were in school. Mostly though we just end up hanging out in the attic and playing Monopoly Junior when we're supposed to be having 'meetings' while I avoid my roommate this Hopkins kid. I don't even know his first name because everyone just calls him Hopkins. Maybe he doesn't have a first name.

_Step 5: Close your letter with a comment about the weather. _Yesterday it rained. We still had to do rowing, because how better to make our lives miserable then let some tool yell at us in the rain.

_Step 6: Sign your name. Emerson_

P.S. _Step 7: You're done! _I don't think that's technically a step.

Pop!

The poetry thing isn't working! At first I just tried using some lines that sounded good from this little blue book of poetry Anderson has but she always just ends up reciting the next few lines and walking away! Then I thought I'd start writing my own poetry but that turned out even worse! You said girls liked romantic stuff like that! I thought that's how you met girls when you were my age!

Classes are pretty normal except for biology, the teacher is really into getting us 'thinking' about stuff! Like about how evolution is just a bunch of accidental changes that ended up being for the best so we should be afraid of change or something like that! He even lets us have classes out in the woods which is nice! It's weird though because he's so old! And normally old people like things the way they were back in the old days!

The weather here is okay! Mostly it's like back home!

-_Drew!_

Pop,

We were supposed to write our parents letters, but since Drew's already doing that I thought instead you might enjoy this picture of a Robot fighting a T-Rex.

Cheers

-_John_

Daddio,

This school is fantastic! You made it sound like some sort of soul-sucking hell filled with plastic pod people but I've actually met a lot of really cool people. Like the dorm adviser, Amelie, she's so wicked. Like, the other day she came up with this theory that you know a boy is ready to have sex if you can say 'vagina' to him and he doesn't blush or laugh, so she started yelling vagina really really loudly down the stairwell as people were coming up from afternoon classes. The best part was she didn't even get in trouble! She's got this whole charm thing going on so she could pretty much do anything she wanted and wouldn't get anything more than a slap on the wrist! She thinks it's a french thing because her mum is from Paris. I told her my mum was from Montreal, but that probably wasn't the same.

Even the teachers aren't that bad, my English teacher even seemed to like my better after I told him I was named after Ada Lovelace because he smiled at me in a way that was neither sarcastic or pervy like he smiles at other people. Plus, even if my teachers all sucked it wouldn't be too bad because this guy John is in all my classes and he's always drawing me these little cartoons, some of which are surprisingly educational, like the one he did of Archduke Ferdinand getting assinated. Do you think that means he likes me?

The weather is the only downside, it's nice but almost too nice. There haven't been any thunderstorms, or fog, or even a freak sandstorm! Is that too much to ask for? One little sandstorm?

-_Ada_

P.S. He just drew me a picture of a giant heart stomping on a city with the caption 'Love Conquers All', that's totally a sign, right?

P.P.S. If you're wondering why I'm asking you about boy stuff and not mum it's only because you are a boy and therefore have a better understand of what the hell might be going through another boy's mind.

P.P.P.S. Can I have a gecko?

Charlie,

School is fine. The teachers leave me alone as long as I show up to enough of my classes and kiss up to them enough to maintain a 72% average. The headmaster seems to adore me for some reason I can't understand because he's made me girl's dorm adviser which mostly involves me making sure everyone brushes their teeth and having weekly check-in meetings with the boys dorm adviser who is (get this) Richard Cameron the Third the Fourth. I know I should give him a break, for being such a tool and all, but he takes this adviser crap so seriously it's hard to.

Speaking of ginger kids though, I met Sophie. She seems okay, sort of bookish and sarcastic and sad and as previously mentioned, really, really, ginger. I think she's mostly scared of me or embarrassed or whatever because we mostly just awkwardly acknowledge each others existence and do our own things. Oh, but get this my friend Emerson Anderson (doesn't that sound like an insurance company or something?) is totally macking on her, in a sort of chivalrous; let-me-hold-that-door-for-you way. Em's pretty cool though, he wants to make this movie about Welton 'life' and how it's stuck in a time loop. Mostly though he only has footage of the two of us and sometimes this chick Ada sitting in the attic playing board games.

I hate the weather here though, everything else is only mildly irritating but I hate the weather. I want it to snow, or stay warm and sunny. I hate fall, it's a stupid transition season, it'd be better if it just went from sunshine to snow. It'd be more magical. Fall ruins that.

Oh dear god, I've become so...settled. I think it's time to shake things up.

-_Amelie_

P.S. What was the Dead Poets Society?

* * *

**A.N. Okay, I had no idea when I set out to write this that it would turn into this, but I think I like it. Anyways, this is a very, very, very belated birthday gift for Thyme, so I hope you don't hate it. As for me it's my birthday tommorow so I'm going to bed so tommorow will get here faster. **

**-C**


	15. Losing My Religion

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Losing My Religion**

They had silently rolled their eyes everytime Meeks got out of eating rubbery pork chops and got something mildly edible looking from the kitchen instead. They had groaned and exchanged looks when he got out early for winter break because Hanukah came early this year. They had all sarcastically whispered when he turned 13 and 'became a man', but this, this was the last straw.

"Whaddya mean your not going to buy it!"

"Uh, I mean that I'm not going to buy an abandoned parking lot no matter how much you bug me about it."

"But why not!"

"Hmmmm, maybe because I don't need nor do I want an abandoned parking lot, because it would be a ridiculous waste of money that I neither have nor plan to ever have and lastly just because you 'cleverly' pointed out that I can now buy land because I am of age does not mean I have to or should."

"Wait a minute!" Pitts who had been silent the entire conversation thus forth suddenly and abruptly stopped shovelling cheerios into his mouth and held his hand up in the universally known 'stop' gesture. "So you're saying" he pointed at Charlie, "That you" he pointed at Meeks, "Can buy an abandoned parking lot because you read from a book and then we all lifted people up in chairs and danced around!"

Meeks fidgetted around in his chair as Knox, Charlie, Neil, and Pitts all turned to look at him. Cameron on the other hand was engrossed in a chemistry textbook because he isn't very important in this story and because he's the kind of guy who reads his chemistry textbook at breakfast. Anyways, back to Meeks.

"Well, actually I could do it even if I never had a cermony, a Bar Mitzvah isn't the name of the thing it's the name of the age."

Knox stared at him blankfaced, "Wait, wait, wait, so you're telling me that if you're Jewish and you turn 13 then BAM!" He hit the table for emphasis though the sound was more from his hand cracking that the table, "You can just own property and get married no questions asked?"

Meeks shrugged and turned back to his toast. Which was horribly burnt but not quite to the point of being inedible. They really had the art of cooking food so it was just edible enough that no one would starve down to a science.

"Meeks, man you _have _to do this." Neil interjected looking very serious and adopting his 5th-grade-class-president voice. "You have to do this, no _must_ for every other kid out there who can't buy an old abandoned parking lot. You must carry the torch for them, all these poor not able to own property. You see? You must do it for them who can't. _Because. You. Can!_" By the time he was done this rousing little speech he was leaning over Meeks in a way that was more terrifying than inspirational.

"Mhmmm, well, I'm going to go over there and eat with Spaz because although he may sneeze on my food I don't think he'd ever give me a speech about my moral obligation to buy a parking lot." Meeks adjusted his glasses picked up his mostly burnt but still slightly edible toast and turned to leave before pausing, "Actually, if you want to own property so much why don't you just convert?" Greeted with nothing but blank faces he turned away again. "Ya, that's what I thought too."

"He's not serious?" Charlie said glancing over to where he had gone off to sit with Spaz.

Pitts pouted, putting his arms around his plate as if to guard the contents from imaginary predators. "I'm not giving up bacon."

"But we could buy the parking lot!" Neil interjected, "But...my parents might kill me."

Knox nodded, "I don't want to get married that bad."

Charlie scoffed, "Feh, marriage is for saps anyway. But what are we going to do about the parking lot?"

There was an uncommon and eerie silence that fell over the table as the collective brain power of four 13 year-old boys struggled to come up with a solution to the seemingly impossible problem at hand. And then it came, all at once like the voice of god;

"Why don't you just make your own religion?" Cameron sarcastically commented eyes still glued to his chemistry textbook, which was odd because he wasn't hiding a Playboy behind it, though he could have fooled you the way he was looking at it.

Neil, Knox, Charlie, and Pitts all exchanged silent glances, before abruptly bursting into conversation, each talking over the other.

"-Dibs on being the Pope. Wait do we even have a-"

"- need a symbol, like a lightning bolt or maybe-"

"-And we could have Pancake Tuesday as our big holiday like Christmas but with more-"

"-For that we could just beat each other a bit with textbooks-"

"-It could be our bible, only better because it's got a centrefold!"

And thus the new religion of Nepichoxism was born, the four of them by some miracle even got the teachers to start acknowledging it. Though that was somewhat dampended by Mr. McAllistair concluding that since they were of this new religion their would be no need for them to leave the school for Easter holidays.

Thus ended the reign of Nepichoxism.

**A.N. Moral of the story is Pancake Tuesday should be a international bank holiday so people can enjoy the wonders of pancakes for dinner. **


	16. Weekend

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Weekend**

Weirdly enough the whole thing had been Neil's idea. Convincing Mr. Nolan to give all seven of them weekend passes, getting their parents to sign off on them and doing it all without disclosing too much about what they were planning on doing turned out to be the simplest part of the whole thing oddly enough. The real problem was Knox, who in a Post-Chris funk had flat out and adamantly refused to even consider coming with them despite multiple endorsements by both Charlie and Pitts. In the end though, it was Neil who saved the day, because he's Neil Freakin' Perry and that's what he does.

"Knox?" He knocked purposefully on the closed door.

"Go away, I already told you I'm not going."

Neil rolled his eyes and pushed the door open letting light from the hallway pour into the darkened room. Knox cringed away from the light and glared at Neil. "Remember that whole part when I told you to _go away_?"

"Not particularily no." Neil picked his way cautiously across the room over discarded food wrappers and what looked like an entire notebook's worth of lined paper strewn about the floor, he picked one up and read it experimentally. "I gave you my heart...Now give it back." He let out a long low whistle. "Wow, okay, Knox I didn't want to have to do this...but...Ginny Danbury is going and this might be your only chance to get Chris back."

"How so?" Knox scoffed pretending to be disinterested but Neil could tell he had taken the bait like a...baited thing.

Neil shrugged making his way back to the door, "Well you could get some insider information from her see how things are going between Chet and Chris, see if you only need to make another move for Chris to come running into your arms. Or you could stay here and mope. Your choice."

Knox was up and dressed before you could say antidisestablishmentarianism (well if you said it really slowly). He was trying to simultaneously put his boots on when realization dawned on his face,"Wait, but I don't have a form-"

"We got one for you," Neil said already down the hall.

"But my parents-"

"All taken care of, your mom is really nice by the way."

"Everyone else is-"

"Already downstairs waiting, now come on, your second chance with Chris is calling." Knox finally managed to pull on his left boot and get the toggles on his coat done up. Neil was right, of course, this was his second chance to get Chris. It was the best idea ever!

But now that he was standing outside in the freezing cold in front of what appeared to be some sort of industrial business it started feeling like the worst idea ever. But before he could even contemplate turning and running Charlie appeared out of nowhere put an arm around his shoulder and steered him towards the building. "Come on Knoxious, carpe diem, or carpe noctum, or whatever the hell else you wanna seize." This last part of the sentence however was mostly directed over Charlie's shoulder to Meeks.

"Charlie, seriously, what the hell am I doing here."

Charlie gaped at him, "You're here to watch the greatest and most American sport ever conceived. Ha, conceived."

"You think _Roller Derby_ is the most American sport ever?"

"Of course he does," Meeks interjected "It's got violence, short skirts, things going fast, and hot girls attempting to beat the crap out of each other. All the things this great nation was founded on." He deadpanned.

Charlie laughed gleefully and clapped his free arm around Meeks, "That's the spirit boys." He steered the three of them into the building which was pleasantly warm and buzzing with energy, Charlie handed over the cash and was given three tickets in return. "Now let's go live the American Dream!"

They had no trouble finding where the other four had decided to sit due to the sheer lack of subtlety of Pitts standing up waving his arms and bird-calling to them. Knox could see from here that Neil had found his friends from the play-including Ginny Danbury he noted happily-and was chatting animatedly with them, though still keeping his right arm slung around Todd's chair protectively. Though he felt both ridiculously bulky and overheated in the warm air of what he could only describe as an arena he didn't have the time to even take it off before Charlie pushed him into his seat and the lights dimmed and a booming voice came over a speaker system.

"**Ladies and gentlemen! Please give a rowdy welcome to THE FIIIIIIIIIGHT CREEEEEEEW!** **Lead by team captain AMELIA TEARHEART!" **

Apparently that was the cue to start yelling like crazy as girls burst onto the oval shaped track in the centre of the building in brown leather bomber jackets and white scarves. The noise only grew as the announcer continued on;

"**And now, please get ready to welcome, our very own PAAAAAAAIN KIIIIIIILLEEEEERS! Lead by the Queen of Chaos, the Maven of Mayhem, the Duchess of Distruction; WALT HITMAN!**"

That apparently was Pitts' cue to whack him in the arm (painfully) excitedly. "Like Walt Whitman!" He yelled over the noise of the crowd. Knox was about to sarcastically reply when his eye was drawn back to the track as the new team took the track, decked in nurses uniforms splattered artistically with red paint. But what really caught his eye was not what they were wearing so much but _who_was wearing them. Both teams were a virtual smorgasbord of hot girls in every flavour. Tall ones, short ones, curvy ones, lanky ones, plus sized ones with soft looking skin, petite ones with smooth looking skin, girls with mocha coloured skin, and even a girl who looked a little bit oriental. Forget Chris, if Neil had only told him he could have witnessed this he would have agreed to go weeks ago, hell he would have even arranged the trip.

Though Knox didn't know much about the sport itself he's quickly learning as the bouts go on. Basically it's rough and tumble and fast and the girls play dirty. People are scoring points left and right but he has no idea how or why but he's getting the hang of when to cheer nevertheless. All too soon though it was over and Charlie was dragging him out of his seat by the cuff of his shirt sleeve. He must have take his jacket off at sometime during the match though he honestly couldn't remember when. Knox was suddenly yanked out of his reprive though as he stumbled on the last step down onto the track side level as Charlie dragged him forward into a crowd of fans and players. Of course as soon as they were pulled into the hoard, as often happens in any large crowd of the fairer sex someone called out to Charlie and Knox was abandoned.

He could have of course gone and joined Neil with his theatre friends to try and talk to Ginny but they were all clustered around a player who's blood stained (And not just from red paint) Nurse's minidress had Annie Biotics embroidered across the back. And what would he have said anyways? "Oh, hi, I thought you were fantastic at beating the crap out of everyone else."? Pitts was macking on some girl who was almost as tall as he was, Todd was clinging close to Neil's side, Charlie was chatting up two or three girls at once, Meeks was talking to the announcer about the sound system. And Cameron...well who the hell wants to hang out with Cameron? He wasn't that desperate.

Thankfully for Knox though at that moment someone slammed into him from the back knocking the wind out of him and knocking him to the floor. "Oh my gosh! I'm sorry!" A female voice exclaimed from above him. Knox looked up at the girl, she was pretty, thick hair shoved into ponytails that escaped from under either side of her helmet. "Are you okay, here let me help you." She reached down and grabbed Knox's hand pulling him upright before he could protest otherwise.

"Sorry about that. I tripped on that crack over there, see? Where the wooden flooring comes together, there's a bit of a ledge...someone should really get that fixed. Anyways, I'm really sorry, hopefully I haven't destroyed your first derby experience."

"What, no, no! It was awesome, you guys are amazing and-Wait how did you know it was my first time?"

She blinked at him in such as way that suggested it was obvious, "Well, for one thing you're wearing a suit." Knox looked down. Oh. Right. Duh. "Also you have that dazed look in your eye most people tend to get their first time."

"Oh...well, uh, I'm Knox Overstreet."

"Knox Overstreet? Wow, now _that's _a name, and this is coming from someone who calls herself Walt Hitman." She said unbuckling her helmet and tucking it under her arm before shaking Knox's hand enthusiastically.

"Wait, _you're _Walt Hitman?" He responded with a little bit more enthusiasum than was strictly necessary, he caught himself and cleared his throat before going on in a slightly more reserved tone. "Uh, I mean that's really clever with the whole," he gestured at her outfit, "Nurse theme."

"You got that! Most people don't. Hell most people don't even _know_ who Walt Whitman is. Isn't that sad?" She shook her head like this was the most tragic thing she could think of. Knox nodded in agreement, although he had never heard of Walt Whitman until a few months ago.

"Lottie!" A girl skated up to them gave Knox a once over and raised an eyebrow at him before turning to her team captain, "Come on we've gotta go, Mark's leaving and unless you want to walk home you better hurry up." Knox's heart sank, here he was talking to a cute, funny, girl who knew about poetry and could probably beat up 75% of the boys at Welton and she was leaving! Life wasn't fair.

The girl-Lottie-frowned, "Uh, I have to go, it was really nice talking to you Knox Overstreet and...here," She grabbed his arm and scribbled her number on it with a pen which seemed to have appeared from nowhere. "Call me okay, and maybe we could try and get together again? To talk about poetry?" Knox nodded dumbly as he stared down at his arm which read in smudgy blue pen '344 2033 Lottie aka Walt Hitman'. He looked up just in time to see her skating off towards the doors where she had come in, though at the last second she turned and waved back at him before disappearing outside.

"Oy! Overstreet, let's go!" Charlie suddenly appeared at his side once more, he had knack for doing that. In one hand he held Knox's jacket out for him and in the other he had the lapel of Meeks' jacket, as he tried to drag him away from a rather animated discussion about the acoustics of the building. "Well that was a thoroughly stimulating experience in American culture." He said as they stepped out into the fridgid air, made worse by the fact that were leaving the warm close air of the building. It struck Knox as very odd how quiet and still it was outside the buzz of energy from the match disipating as everyone tramped back through the snow to their cars. Neil said goodbye to his friends from the play who all somehow miracously managed to cram themselves into a brown van, like a clown car in reverse.

It wasn't until much later on the train ride back to Welton, when everyone else had fallen asleep (and in Neil and Todd's case on top of each other) that Knox realized he was supposed to ask Ginny Danbury...something. He couldn't remember now but if he'd forgotten it couldn't be so important. He shrugged it off and shifted in his seat trying to get comfertable, he glanced once more at his arm where he had pushed his coat up so he could read the smudgy blue ink, before settling in.

Living the American Dream, baby.

**A.N. Holy crap, I think that's the longest thing I've ever written. I mean it's not **_**that **_**long but especially considering it didn't take that long to write I'm pretty impressed with myself. The whole point behind writing this was mostly to get myself to stop being such a baby about falling and go and practice roller skating, and what better inspiration than Knox macking on a roller girl? **

**-C**

**P.S. Just in case anyone was wondering, Roller Derby and specifically all-girl leagues did exist in the late 50's and early 60's so this is actually somewhat historically correct. You learn something new everyday. **


	17. Shut The Door

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Shut The Door**

Neil Perry often felt like the first part of his life had been one giant To-Do List. Get into a good school? Check. Make the right friends? Check. Get the grades? Check. Become a leader amongst your peers? Check. But then somewhere it slowly started to turn into the Not-To-Do List. Start a secret society? Check. Act in a play? Check. Almost commit suicide? Find out what your parents have been hiding from you? Run away? Spend the next 20 years teaching English in Denmark? Check. Check. Check. Check.

And of course at the very end of his Not-To-Do List in bold was **To under no circumstances make any kind of contact with anyone from back before you went MIA, no matter what the reason, no matter how small or unimportant a relationship you had with them. EVER. **

Which of course explained what the hell he was doing on Charlie Dalton's front stoop in Brooklyn. It had started innocently enough, just a trip to New York, it was safe to go now nobody would be looking for him anymore and he didn't know anyone there, and even if he did, what would be the chances of running into them? Though apparently the chances of accidentally coming across their book were quite good. At that point Neil couldn't help it, and he spent the rest of the day desperately trying to track him down. The author information on the back flap had said he lived in Brooklyn and from there it wasn't even all that difficult, despite Charlie's rather generic name and living in densely populated area.

But now that he was actually here, staring at Charlie Dalton's front door he hoped that it would turn out to be the wrong guy, and he could laugh it off and get back on a plane as soon as possible to put an ocean between him and the baggage of his old life. Yes, of course, what were the odds this would be the same Charlie Dalton? Hell, Neil wasn't even sure that it was the same guy, just because the picture had looked like him, he was older and Neil had probably not even remember what he looked like properly. With this reassurance at the front of his mind he banged the brass doorknocker a few times (so not like Charlie) and waited. He counted to five slowly and was just about to turn to leave when the door was opened by a pretty college aged girl with the square-est glasses Neil had ever seen.

"Hello." She said politely. "Can I help you?"

Totally the wrong house, Neil surged with confidence, "Yes, actually I'm looking for Charlie Dalton, but I'm sure-"

"Oh, well he's not here right now." She cocked her head to the side apologetically leaning heavily against the doorframe as if this news was a heavy burden.

Neil nodded trying to look at least some what serious when he wanted to smile and skip down the street and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. The claustriphobia he used to get as a kid settling around him uncomfortably the longer he stayed there. "Oh, well that's too bad, I was just in the area and was going to see if he wanted to catch up but I guess if he's not here I'll be going."

"No, no, no, you came all this way he just called a few minutes ago to say he was coming home. He should be here in 10 minutes, come on in, I'm sure this will be a nice surprise for him. He's been so stressed out lately." She holds the door open further and gestures him inside taking his coat and shuffling him off through a set of pocket doors into a living room/dining room into a sleek chair which he's pretty sure is mostly there for looks and not comfort. "So, uh can I get you a coffee or something?" She asks fiddling with the stacks of papers on the coffee table.

"Uh, sure. Thanks...uh?"

"Monica. Sugar and cream okay?" He nods and Monica whisks herself off into the kitchen. Neil rubs his hands nervously on his thighs, this is ridculous. What the hell is he doing here in Charlie Dalton's perfect little house being served coffee by his...girlfriend? Oh god, this was a bad idea. A bad, bad, very bad idea. No wonder it was bolded on the flipping list.

"Here you go." Monica the might-be-girlfriend handed him a hot mug with a Frost quote on the side. Well atleast he knew now that he had the right Charlie Dalton. "So how do you know Charlie?" She asks settling into the much more comfortable looking couch across from Neil, ya give the guest the crappy chair.

"We went to boarding school together way back." He nodded as if reassuring himself of this fact, it sounded weird to say out loud, like it was part of some back story fabricated for a fictional life of Neil Perry. "How do you know him?" He sips at his coffee, its a little too sweet for his liking but it's hot and distracting, something to do with his hands.

Monica leans forward and puts her mug on the coffee table, "Oh, well my girlfriend and I rent the basement apartment but I actually met him when I was temping at a publishing house a few summers ago." Neil blinked. Oh. _Oh_.

"Right, okay, sorry I just thought that maybe you and Charlie were..." He waved his hand and allowed himself to drift off midsentence. Unfortunately as Neil was saying this not-his-girlfriend Monica had started to drink from her mug and had ended up half snorting it half coughing it all over her lap.

"Oh! My! You though...!" She laughed and coughed several times trying to wipe off her skirt, face, and the coffee table simultaneously. "Wow, you _really_ have been gone a long time. Because I mean Charlie and Steven they'd been together for...well I think since college. Or maybe before that because they went to boarding school together, do you know him? Steven? I mean, obviously you know Charlie."

"...Meeks?" Neil gripped tighter to his coffee cup, reason #13 that this had been a very, very, very bad idea. Because things change, and people change and things are different than what you expected.

She nodded adjusting her glasses, "Yes." Neil inhaled slowly through his mouth and let it go. Okay, so Charlie and Meeks...he hadn't seen that one coming. At all. "Anyways, so obviously I couldn't be his girlfriend, just a friend and a renter. Oh and the occasional babysitter." She inclined her head over Neil's shoulder.

At the dining room table behind him there's a girl, maybe six or seven, colouring quietly off in her own little world. Charlie's kid. Well and Meeks' too. How did he not see her when he came in?

This discovery was so completely unexpected and unnerving for a few terrifying moments Neil thought he might throw up. He started recieting the alphabet backwards in his head but couldn't get past V, what the hell came before V?

"Hey are you okay?" Monica had taken her glasses off and was standing squinting at him. "Here, I'll just take your cup, and give you a few moments." She motioned for his cup, nevermind it was still half full and wandered off towards the kitchen. Neil put his head down so it rested on his knees, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes so the normally barren view from behind his eyelids was dotted with colour. He counted slowly to ten, this was almost as bad as the night he left, when his view of the world had pitched the the side abruptly and he had to scrambled to regain his footing.

When he looked up again Charlie's kid was sitting across from him on the couch. Staring at Neil in that unabashed way that children did, not rudely, just as if you were something new and their minds were working on figuring out just what. "Hi, I'm Sophelia. I live here." Neil laughed slightly, _Sophelia_, of course Charlie's kids weren't going to get away with plain simple names. That was so him and he was suddenly comforted by the thought that at least that hadn't changed.

"Where do you live?" She asked tilting her head to the side as if this was troubling her.

Neil opened his mouth and then paused, "Denmark, do you know where that is?" Of course she didn't, kid was like six. To his surprise though she nodded.

"Yup, that's where Hamlet lives. Do you know him?"

"Uh, nope, sorry."

"Oh, well if you ever met him could you say hi to him for me?" Sophelia grinned, and Neil grinned back if only for the irony of a girl who's name was one letter from Ophelia wanting to say hi to Hamlet.

"If I ever met him that's the first thing I'll do." The nausea was starting to fade. Somehow the shock of Charlie having a kid was ten times worse than the actual kid, who was cute and rather possesively holding onto a stuffed narwal. She propped up onto her knees, cupped a hand around her mouth and leaned forward.

"D'you wanna know where my daddy is? He's visiting Walt Whitman." She whispered loudly eyes glinting misceiviously. "Sometimes he gets a brickwall in his head and he can't write and he goes and talks to Uncle Walt, but it's a secret so shhhhhhhh!"

All of a sudden there was a loud banging on the upstairs landing and down the stairs as two boys of about eleven or twelve years appeared beside the pocket doors. Oh, of course, Neil should have known. Charlie wouldn't just have one kid, oh no, he'd have _three_. The two boys, who were either identical twins who didn't look too much alike or ferternal twins who looked very simillar. They also looked so much like Charlie he knew instantly that they were trouble.

"Why is there a weird guy in the living room?" One asked the other.

"MONI-CA! There's a weird guy in the living room!" The other shouted.

"I KNOW!" Shouted a voice from the kitchen "He's your father's friend, leave him alone!"

The boys looked at Neil, then at each other and shrugged. "That's Bryon," Sophelia said pointing at the one on the left and then on the right, "And that's Sebastian. They're twins."

"You're a sharp one Sofie, now come on let's leave dad's friend alone like Monica said." Byron said crossing his arms and leaning on the doorway.

Sebastian mirrored his twin, and they exchanged glances that could only mean they had something planned, "Ya, come of Sof, you can come play with us." They both slunk off, prompting Sophelia to climb off the couch and chase after them.

Neil leaned his head back into the sofa and sighed rubbing at his forehead. This had possibly been the weirdest and most unexpected experience of his entire life -not counting _the incident_- and he had only been in this house for maybe 10 minutes. Little did he know it was just going to get weirder. Right now actually.

"I'm hoooooooome!" Defintely. 150% sure that this was the right Charlie Dalton. And suddenly Neil was looking for exits, no windows and the only door lead back into the hallway, where Charlie was. Maybe he could fit through that vent, but then what? He could hear Monica and Charlie talking out in the entryway and she had no doubt already told him he was here so he couldn't exactly just disapear up into the air vent. Neil'd just have to sit there trapped until he came in and then deal with whatever happened next. Also try not to throw up that was important too.

"-Well I didn't ask what his name was, he just said you were friends from school."

"And you just let him in? What if he was lying? Huh? What if he's secretly some sort of CIA agent come to take me away to implant subliminal messaging in my next book? Huh?"

Neil heard the door open, "Well if he is I'll probably end up being the one who gets killed so what are you so worried about?" He heard the door shut again. He could here Charlie coming down the hall and half expected everything to go slow motion and super loud like it always does in the movies. Life is never as cool as movies make it seem.

Charlie turned in through the pocket doors, "Well hello mystery guest-" he stopped abruptly looked at Neil and then quickly made his way over to what appared to be a liquor cabinet, opened it and extracted what looked like a bottle of good vodka. He poured himself a shot, and then on second thought poured two and downed them both. He turned back to Neil. "Okay, you wanna tell me what the fuck you're doing here and where the hell you've been and what the hell happened in the first place? Not neceessarily in that order. Actually in reverse order might be nice." He didn't sound angry just...tired.

Neil drummed his hands on his thighs, "I-" _Was going to get sent to military school. I was going to kill myself. I found out I was adopted, can you fucking believe that? I ran away and kept running until I got to Denmark. Ya, Denmark. I'm here because I needed to see you. I need to find Todd. _Any of these responses would have been appropriate, but then all of the mysteries of Neil Perry would be out there in the open for Charlie to see so instead he blurted out the first stupid thing that came to mind which was; "You named your kid _Sophelia_?"

"First I didn't name her, secondly, that has absolutely _nothing_ to do with you, and number three, did you honestly just blurt out the first thing that came to mind to distract me? Because honestly Neil there is pretty much nothing that could distract me from that fact that you are _sitting in my living room_."

The two sat in silence for a long few minutes the silence only punctuated occasionally from muffled voices upstairs. They both sat observing each other while simultaneously trying to not look as if they were. "Odense." Neil said finally giving in, it wasn't as if Charlie was going to let him just get up and leave without a proper explaination so he might as well get it out of the way.

Charlie looked up resting his chin in his hand tiredly and spoke without lifting his face out as if the confrontation had drained a lot of energy from him. "Huh?"

"It's where I've been for the last 20 years. Well 19 years 10 months, but whatever who's counting? Well I am obviously but you know what I meant." Neil punctuated this by flapping his hands about in a very noncommital way.

"Is that in Iowa?"

"No it's in-"

There was a particularily large shout from upstairs and they both looked up at the ceiling one curious and one concerned. Charlie frowned "Hold that though." He stood and held out a finger in the universally known 'one second' gesture and hurried upstairs. "_Boys! How many times have I told you not to put your sister in the dumb waiter!_" Neil listened to his muffled shouts and suddenly reaslised that this could be his escape. He was just about to get up when the two boys appeared again in the doorway.

"You can't leave." One said plainly, not in a mean or threatening way, just a statement of a fact.

Neil's eyebrows creased together. "Uh, why not? And aren't you two supposed to be upstairs getting yelled at?" His eyebrows knotted themselves closer together as if snuggling for warmth as the two boys exchanged indentical smirks.

"You don't have to be in the same room to get yelled at, duh. That's why he's _yelling_ because we aren't there." the other said rolling his eyes. Neil frowned, that was always the way he got yelled at, you were taken into your father's study and given a 'talking to'. Maybe things were different now.

"Oh and to answer your other question we've hidden your coat." The first one added. "So, you aren't going anywhere."

They were just about to slink away when Charlie made it back down the stairs and given them the evil eye. "I swear I am _this _close to sending you to Welton." It was said jokingly though, only the slightest trace of a real threat. He messed up their hair, "Now please go do something that doesn't involve locking your sister in small dark spaces." They both saluted oddly enough and slinked off in true Dalton fashion to go cause some more trouble most likely.

"Denmark." Neil said to Charlie's back.

He turned around, well he turned his torso, his feet stayed where they were which couldn't have been comfortable. "What?"

"Odense, where I've been it's in Denmark." At this point Charlie had sat back down in his spot and was looking at him like he had just dribbled on his shirt.

"You. Ran away. To Denmark?" Neil nodded, it really wasn't that hard to follow. "Okay, so here's the big question; Why?"

Neil slung an arm around the back of his chair, which oddly seemed to get more confortable the longer he sat in it, "Oh, I was avenging the murder of my dead father. What do you _think _dummy? I was hiding. I thought about coming here actually but that would have been too obvious so I picked somewhere far away that no one had ever heard of. Duh."

Charlie rolled his eyes. "No shit Sherlock. I meant why..." He trails off but the meaning is obvious; _Why did you leave? What were you hiding from? _

Neil rubs a hand over his face, he's not sure if it's the time difference or the shock of this whole experience but suddenly he was so exhausted it physically hurt. "Charlie...I don't know why," _liar_ "It just got to the point where...it was suffocating, I was going to get sent to military school, Harvard, no more acting, I tried to talk to my father," _liar_ "But he just wouldn't listen and if I hadn't left...I might have...just ended it." _liar. _Well not such a lie but not the truth. That had been his first plan, running away was just plan B.

Charlie was studying him again and Neil knew that he knew he was hiding something. But at this point they both knew neither one was giving it up. Charlie sighed, "Well you look like crap. I'll go get the guest room all set up." He held up a hand at Neil's oncoming protests. "I don't even want to hear it. I'm not letting you run off again for another 20 years. So shut up, say thanks and go to bed."

The guest room was like the rest of the house, organized and eclectic at the same time. It smelt nice and didn't have that horrible unlived in smell the guest rooms he was used to always did. And ironically his coat had been 'hidden' in the closet. "You know. I still can't believe you live here. With your kids. And your...Meeks?"

Charlie sighed, a half laugh, half exhale. "Ya, join the club. Well, I have a scathingly mean book review to get done and three kids I have to somehow convince to go to bed at a reasonable hour." He ran a hand through his hair, "Oh and I better call Steven, oh god he's going to, well probably react calmly and logically." He turned to leave.

"Uh, one more thing? Your daughter said you were visiting Whitman? What does that mean exactly?"

He did the half laugh thing again "The Brooklyn Walk of Fame, he's on it and that's the way I come home. I guess that just sounded more exciting than just walking home. You'd be surprised how hard you'll try to have a six year-old think you're exciting...Well, goodnight. and left the room leaving the door open so the light from the hallway spilt in.

Neil had been exhausted but now that he was lying on the bed he couldn't convince himself to go to sleep just yet. He listened as Charlie somehow managed to coral first Sofie and then the twins into bed, and then as he had a phone conversation with Meeks. He thought about picking up the line in the room and listening in on their conversation but from Charlie's soft tone he decided it was probably a little bit personal.

Eventually Neil must have fallen asleep on top of the covers, fully dressed because the next thing he could recall was waking up with a start aware someone was touching him. For a moment he forgot where he was until he looked down and saw Sophelia pulling on his pant leg. "Shhhhhhh." She whispered climbing up onto the bed as Neil sat up and the events of the last 12 hours came rushing back like a fever dream.

"What are you doing? What time is it?" He searched around the room for a clock and saw that it was almost 5:30 am and the sounds of the city that never sleeps waking up indicated that the clock was right. Now that he was up though, Neil felt well rested and alert. Stupid time changes.

"I drew this for you." She held up a piece of orange construction paper. "Look see, that's you with the green sweater and that's Hamlet, see cause he's got a crown. He's a prince. Did you know that?"

Neil nodded, "And who's that" He pointed the other figure standing beside Hamlet.

"That's H-H-," She paused and pursed her lips in concentration, "Horatio! Yes, because he's Hamlet's best friend and they stick together. Even went Hamlet went a little, you know," She lowered her voice "Crazy."

Neil blinked at Sophelia who looked at him earnestly with eyes exactly like Charlie's but softer somehow. Did she realize she had just given him a metaphorical kick in the ass? No probably not, she was only a kid, but then again she was Meeks and Charlie's kid. A deadly combination.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it. But you should probably go back to bed before we both get in trouble." He lowered his voice and she nodded, put a finger to her lips and hopped off the bed. Neil placed the drawing on the nightstand and laid back down, though taking his shoes off first this time.

But he wasn't going to bed instead Neil was going to plan how to get the last thing on his Not-To-Do List checked off.

Finding Todd.

**A.N. So basically this is what happens when Corky writes M/C angst with kids and Thyme and I talk about it for too long. I know it's illogical. I know somethings could have been better explained or fleshed out more. But I think with the whole idea of Neil walking into this thing he didn't expect it sort of works. Also Sophelia is a real name in case anyone was wondering. Oh and I'm pretty sure this is far and away the longest thing I've ever written. **

**-C**

**P.S. Katsiiiiiii, I do appreciate that you put up with the pairing just for me, even though you fell out of love with it. **


	18. Music

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Music**

* * *

Knox hated going to football games at Ridgeway for all the reasons that everyone else seemed to want to drag him along. Firstly, the football itself, it's not that he didn't grasp the basic concepts of the game but when everyone starts dissolving into specifics he couldn't help but feel lost. He knew when to cheer though, that's sort of the most important part. Secondly everyone else had gone to school with people at Ridgeway so they all broke off in little clumps to talk to their old friends. The only excpetion to this was Charlie but it didn't matter that he hadn't grown up with these people since he could (literally) charm the pants off of anyone. Oh and thirdly watching the cheerleaders prancing around cheering on their football playing boyfriends was a little bit painful. Sure he was mostly over She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named but this just seemed like rubbing salt in the wound, even if it had healed somewhat. Though, Knox had to admit that as bad as sitting outside on uncomfortable metal bleachers in the cold for hours on end the after party usually made up for it.

Where the party went changed almost everytime, usually it ended up at a house of someone none of the poets knew but that hardly mattered. Tonight though the party had taken up residence in a Waffle House along the highway the kind of place that only served a dozen items and nothing fancy but good food none the less.

It's some sort of miracle that they somehow manage to snag a free table in the crowded resturant where most people are sitting two to a seat. The air inside is close and just on the verge of uncomfortably hot so everyone sheds their Welton mandated coats that they all wore to the game, they may not be stylish but they are thick and warm. Charlie is still drinking in the attention of half a dozen townie girls at the next table trying to play it cool and everyone else follows his lead. That is until Pitts stands up and starts waving his arms around like he's trying to signal a plane.

"What the hell are you doing!" Cameron hissed attempting to yank him back into his seat. Attempting being the key word.

"I'm just waving at Sam." He pointed to where a small blond boy with glasses from their class was standing talking to a waitress. Everyone else craned their necks to get s good look with the exception of Knox who was contemplating the menu with great enthusiam wondering if he could afford to get french toast and a full order of hashbrowns.

"That's not Sam," Meeks said sitting back down after not-so-stealthily sneaking a look at the boy in question, "That's Skippy."

"Nooooooooooooo. That's Sam." Pitts said again finally sitting down, oblivious to Cameron's insistent tugging.

Meeks rolled his eyes, half hidden behind his glasses so no one would call him out on it. "Noooooooo. That's Skippy. I should know, we always end up standing next to each other in yearbook pictures. Sam's the guy with the bowl cut."

Knox was ignoring this pointless conversation and counted his money for the second time looking around for a waitress. "N'uh! Jonas is the guy the bowl cut, or is that Dewey?" Neil looked over at Todd for comformation but he only got a shrug in response. Asking the new kid to clarify who was who wasn't exactly a well thought through plan.

"Well as totally interesting as this conversation is, I'm starving so I'm going to go track down a waitress?" Knox said standing up "Anyone want to come?" Surprisingly everyone answered in the negative, which was quite shocking when you consider it was a large group of teenage boys who had not eaten in hours and were being given the oppertunity to get some quality food.

Knox pushed his way through a tight knit group of Ridgeway kids surrounding the counter and looked around for a waitress or someone, anyone really, who could get him some hashbrowns. Or he had been looking before someone had come up behind him and clamped hands over his eyes. So of course he did, what any calm, collected, and mature young person would do in his situation.

He screamed. A not very manly scream about 3 octaves higher than his regular voice. A scream under which no circumstances he would ever admit to producing.

"Hey, it's only me." A voice whispered in his ear as the hands were removed from over his eyes. He blinked a few times to clear the weird yellow light things that swam in his vision and then turned to see a mildly attractive girl wearing too much makeup looking up at him expectantly. "What? No hello kiss?" She pouted and leaned in to kiss him.

Knox turned away and tried to wave down a waitress hoping the girl would get the idea and leave him alone. Maybe even apologize for sneaking up on him like that. "Uh, I'm sorry I think you have the wrong person...And wow you're getting really close, and look I have an almost maybe girlfriend and she plays roller derby and can kick my ass so can you...back off?"

She did and looked at him blankly. "What's your problem? Do you think that you can just pretend we never even happened and-" She didn't get any further because at that moment Knox's had slapped a hand over her mouth.

"Okay. I," He waved a hand around his face, "Am not your boyfriend, okay? Okay." He withdrew his hand and wiped it on his pants. She simply blinked at him slowly.

"So you think you can just pretend we never happend?"

Knox threw his hands in the air and simply gave up on the lovely fantasy of him ever getting some hasbrowns in favour of escaping from this ditz. "Hey! I'm talking to you !" She called after him.

Knox pushed his way back towards his table shoving a group of Welton boys out of the way and sending Skippy or Sam or whatever the hell his name was to the floor. He barely noticed though because he had just noticed Charlie over by the jutebox chatting it up with someone who looked oddly famillar. So famillar in fact that instead of returning to the table, curiousity overtook him and he headed towards Charlie and the mystery guy. Something he would soon come to regret.

"-So I only asked her that because I wanted to know what I was getting into, I mean genetics don't lie." Charlie looked up from where he had been flipping through the selections at the mystery guy before glancing Knox out of the corner of his eye and spinning around in confusion. "What the..." Charlie pointed between Knox and the mystery guy his mouth hanging open before turning around and running back to the table "Meeks! Did you clone Knox because there's two of him!"

"I'm guessing you're Knox then," The mystery guy said tiredly "Your friend just spent the last 10 minutes talking to me about body paint."

Knox rubbed at his face, for the love of god why couldn't he just have a nice quiet evening of hashbrown goodness without random strangers intefering every two minutes. "Yea, okay sure, Charlie's not exactly the smartest guy in the world. So sorry about that." he turned to leave, not just back to the table but to actually leave. Get out of the resturant, mooch a ride back to Welton, and sleep. Unfortunately he turned but to an escape route but the wall of insanity. Also known as Neil, Pitts, and Charlie.

"...Wow." Neil whispered "I don't even know which is the real Knox. I'm glad one's not a clone, an evil clone that we have to kill because I wouldn't know which was which."

Charlie rolled his eyes, "Well _he's_ Knox, and obviously we'd just check and see which one had a belly button because that'd be the real Knoxious" he jerked his head toward the mystery guy "But he's like..." He waved his hand around. Neil nodded enthusiastically as if that single hand gesture had explained everything.

"He's like if they ever made a movie about Knox's life that's the guy who'd play him. Because he's Knox-ier than Knox is. I mean he can even do that weird face he does" Pitts added, no wonder he didn't talk much, he had to save his brain power for gems like that.

Knox huffed irritatedly. "Okay, firstly someone else can't be more me than me because I'm me. And secondly all I wanted was some freaking hashbrowns because I'm tired and sore and hungry after that stupid football game. But do I get them? No! First some crazy girl tries to make out with me and then you're going on about _this_ guy and clones and movies and I'm done with it!" Knox pushed his way past Charlie and stormed out of the resturant.

The rest of the poets who had been observing this scene from the comfort and safety of the table had slowly made their way over to the jutebox. "Uh, should we follow him?" Todd asked glancing nervously at the door. Neil nodded and they all followed suit weaving through the crowd which had thinned out somewhat as the post-game excitment died down. All except for Meeks who had hung back.

"I'm sorry, but, uh who are you then?" He asked adjusting his glasses and staring down this mystery guy, who he did have to admit looked a lot like Knox. He flashed Meeks a smile, one that was just slightly more charming and whiter than Knox's.

"The name's Mutt Sanders."

* * *

**A.N. Betcha didn't see that one coming? Or maybe you did. I can't tell if my fake outs are good or not because I know what's going to happen. Though really, does it matter if you were surprised or not? I mean it's Mutt freakin' Sanders he's good either way. **


	19. Ribbon

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Ribbon**

* * *

Neil was hiding something from Todd.

And considering that they lived in a five by eight cocaine coloured box that in itself was a very difficult feat. Add to that the fact that they were in a...unique relationship of sorts (Neil had gone so far as to label himself as Toddsexual). Hiding something from Todd wasn't exactly easy.

He had been suspicious for days, ever since Neil had come back from play rehearsal with his jacket rolled up into a bundle which wasn't all that strange except for the fact that it had been snowing heavily for hours and his reasoning behind not wearing a coat was that he was too warm. On top of that he had all these strange cuts all over his hands and sometimes Todd would return to their room only to find it had been 'locked' with a chair pushed against the door but when he finally banged the door open everytime Neil would simply be at his desk doing homework. Not exactly illicit activities.

It had all come to a head though when Todd had entered the room to find Neil half under his bed. "Come here...Ow, no we do not bite. Todd! Come here! Stop that!"

"Uh, stop what?" Todd asked causing Neil to jump, well as much as one could jump when lying stomach down under a basically involved violently jerking upwards and then a lot of swearing. Neil then quickly extracted himself from underneath Todd's bed and tried (and failed) to look nonchalant.

"Oh, uh, hi Todd. What are you doing here? Don't you have stuff? I think Charlie was looking for you and actually I have a lot of stuff I need to do in private so if you could..." He had started ushering Todd and was about to push him out into the hall when they were both distracted by a small squeaking sound coming from the foot of their door.

Todd looked at the cat which was light golden brown and had a dark blue ribbon tied around it's neck. Neil looked at Todd. The cat looked at both of them."Mreow?"

"Neil?"

"Yes Todd?"

"Why is there a cat in our room?"

Neil in one swift movement grabbed the cat into his arms and started talking so rapidly Todd could barely understand what he was saying. "'ssocutecanwekeephimplease!" Todd blinked.

"Uh, what?"

"Ginny Danbury rescued him from a snow bank after rehearsal. He was going to _die_and I mean lookit! He does the same face as you! Was I just supposed to say no and let him die!" Neil thrust the cat into Todd's face and he was in fact doing a look very simillar to one of Todd's adorably pathetic looks.

"You named him Todd?" He asked finally. Breaking under the strain of both Neil and the cat looking at him with sad eyes.

Neil nodded, "After you!" he added as if it wasn't already apparent. "But he's Todd-Cat and you're just Todd. So can we keep him! Pleeeeeeeeeee-"

Todd threw his hands up "Fine, yes we can keep the cat." Neil laughed excitedly and pulled Todd into a hug that lifted him slightly off the ground, which was quite impressive for someone who disapeared if he turned sideways. "Thank you thank you thank you! You won't regret it I promise!" He grabbed Todd's cheeks in his hands and gave him an enthusiastic kiss. Todd nodded slightly dazed and reached over to pet the cat which was now lying on Neil's bed. Promptly the cat rolled over onto it's back to have it's stomach pet.

"Uh, Neil?"

"Yes Todd?"

"This is a girl cat."

* * *

**A.N. And then they renamed the cat Toddette and lived happily ever after. **

**I have no idea how you would hide a cat in a dorm room without the other person finding out. But I mean Neil did somehow manage to do the play (for the most part) behind his father's back so he's probably a bit more sneaky that we know. **

**-C**

**P.S. All claim for the inspiration and creation of Todd!Cat goes to the lovely Haykatsi who really did find a cat doing Todd's sad look. **


	20. Clean

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Clean**

* * *

Knox had broken his ankle while trying to find his coat in the cave in the pitch black. Needless to say everyone had been surprised he had gotten off with only a broken ankle. But for almost two weeks with no end in sight he had been coped up in his room when his mother had sent him a care package which for some unknown reason included half a dozen issues of _Seventeen _magazine. Though it wasn't exactly the type of girly magazines he usually enjoyed he soon discovered they weren't half bad. Though he'd never admit that to anyone. Or so he thought.

Since Knox climbing the stairs uninjured was already dangerous enough Neil and Pitts had been sent to explain the chemistry project he had been assigned in lieu of classes. That was when all the trouble started

"Hey! What's this!" Neil yanked one of the magazines out from where it had been hidden under Knox's pillow and examined it with what could only be described as wonderment. His eyes skimmed over the glossy cover before he looked back up at Knox and cocked his head quizzically.

"It's not mine, I mean it is mine but I didn't buy it or anything. My mom must have thought it was just for 17 year-olds not girls." He sputtered out trying to grab it out of Neil's hands and failing to do so as his ankle cast kept him out of reach.

"Hmmmmm" Neil flipped through the pages casually, "Well it looks like you've been enjoying it anyways, oooh! Look a quiz. Which of The 7 Types of People are You? Does anyone have a pen?"

Pitts handed him a pen and they both sat down on Hopkins' bed opposite Knox as they read over the quiz. "Your Best Friend has invited you to a party but you already have plans with the boy you're going with, what do you do?" Neil paused and tapped the pen against his upper lip. "Hmmmmmm... I think A, you invite your date to the party with you." He said with sincerity that was a little bit terrifying. This continued for another 25 minutes while Neil took the quiz and then Pitts. All the while Knox was totally helpless to stop this spectacle. Finally at long last they were finished and reading over their results.

"I'm a Leader! 'You're a natural born leader and you are able to help people see what they can't see themselves. Sometimes you can be unrealistic or irrational when it comes to what you want. You can clearly see the path you want to take forward, just don't forget to see the rest of the picture too.'"

"Now, me. Okay so I'm a Rock. 'You're the person who is always there for anyone else to give advice, tell a joke, or just be around when someone needs you. Make sure however that you don't allow yourself to be taken advantage of due to your interchangable nature. You are the glue that holds any group together.'"

Neil and Pitts highfived enthusiastically, though why you would highfive over being told you were irrational or like glue Knox didn't know. "Alright, alright you did the stupid quiz, now give me that back!"

"But Knoooooooox," Neil whined, "We haven't got to even look at any of the articles! I mean look at this! There's a whole section on how you can find out what season you are?"

"What! Your _season_?"

Pitts nodded. "Like Neil's a spring because he looks good in green and then Meeks'd be a winter, you know, because he can't wear red. It clashes with his hair."

Neil looked over at Pitts with utter panic on his face, "Does he know that!" They both exchanged glances before jumping up off of Hopkins' bed and into the hall.

"Wait! Guys, come on! He doesn't need to know that!" Knox cried after them in vain, "Dammit." He muttered pulling himself out of bed, which was quite a feat considering he wasn't exactly graceful to begin with and now he had a plaster cast to deal with as well. As he thumped his way out of his room and into the hall he was greeted with a human wall composed of Pitts, Neil, and Charlie who were discussing the horrors of red.

"Why did it have to be red! It's like verility and sex and stuff!" Charlie was protesting but Neil and Pitts were holding firm.

"You can wear red, you're totally a summer. But Meeks he's a winter, greys and whites and blues." Pitts explined calmly while Neil held up the magazine for a visual reference pointing at various pictures of girls in sweaters and skirts.

"Plus," Neil added "When would Meeks really be wearing red anyways?"

Charlie sputtered for a moment, "Well, uuh, there's the uh, thing...and the..." He paused, thinking, then exclaimed suddenly. "OH! He has that sweater! The red one. I love that sweater! Er, I mean he loves that sweater."

Knox took a deep breath before shoving his way between Neil and Charlie using his cast as a sort of battering ram. "Will you stop it with the colours and just give me the stupid magazine back?" He attempted to grab for it but Neil pulled it towards himself protectively.

"It isn't stupid!" He protested, "And Charlie if you don't warn Meeks about red I will! This is advice straight from the experts at _Seventeen_!"

Charlie did a double take, "Well you never said this was _Seventeen _we were talking about!"

"What the hell would you know about a magazine for teenage girls?" Knox demanded, this was getting way too weird. Even for Charlie, Neil, and Pitts' who were pretty weird to begin with.

"Psh, Knoxious, you aren't exactly the brightest crayon in the box now are you?" Charlie snorted, "I use the covers to cameoflauge some of my more...adult reading material. It would be a waste to only use the covers. I'm just using all the parts of the buffalo." Oh fantastic, now Charlie was in one of his metaphorical moods. Knox just rolled his eyes but Charlie hadn't finished. "And I'll have you know that part of the reason I'm the highly desired hunk of man you see before you is due to that magazine."

Knox blinked once. Twice. Three times. He must've had an lash caught in his eye or something. "Uh, What?" He gapped. Not exactly his most brilliant moment.

Neil flipped through the pages, "He's right you know. There are tons of articles in here about getting dates. Since their all written for girls it's like a guidebook for what to look for. It could help you get Chris you know."

There was a pause, Knox had been struck speechless, Charlie and Neil we're nodding at each other in silent celebration, and Pitts was thinking about pudding. Then all of a sudden, with agility he sprang forward ripped the magazine out of Neil's hands and ran off to his room with his cast clanking behind him.

"Hey you guys, what's going on?" Meeks had appeared at the other end of the hall.

In a red sweater.

* * *

**A.N. The whole 'Clashes with his hair' thing I completely and unashamedly stole from Thyme. Oh and if anyone was wondering, of course he kept the sweater, hello Charlie likes it. **

**On a more serious note the fandom seems to have fallen asleep a little bit. I know that people are probably just starting to get busy with school getting more serious and what not, but if anyone ever wants to discuss story ideas or just chat I'm always up for that. **

**-C**


	21. HotCold

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Hot-Cold**

* * *

_Dalton Ignores Cameron_

Well it's less that Charles Dalton I ignored Richard Cameron I he just never saw any reason to interact with him. They went to the same school but they weren't in the same grade, they didn't live on the same floor, they didn't have any classes together nor any extra curricular activities. At the end of the day they never saw any point to spend time with each other or even acknowledge one another's existence.

Well except for that one time somebody asked Charles Dalton I if he had Richard Cameron's notes.

"That red headed kid? I don't even know him." He replied. Little did he know this vague comment would be the beginning of generations of Dalton/Cameron interactions.

_Cameron Befriends Dalton_

Charles Dalton II and Richard Cameron II are the original bromance

They had everything in common. They were the same age, had all the same classes and extra curricular's, hell even their parents had gone to school together. So logically of course they aligned themselves together, forming a two man study group that was unstop-able and graduated tied for the top of their class. They decide to go to school together, go into the banking business, get married and have children at the same time so neither of them will be left behind.

Yes, a wonderful friendship, the kind minstrels would write songs about if there were any minstrels left to do so. Unfortunately this close fit friendship did not bode well for their sons, in fact one could say it was the cause for all events that were to transpire between them.

_Dalton Punches Cameron_

Richard Cameron III and Charles 'Nuwanda' Dalton III in addition to being born within 72 hours of one another had spent so much time together growing up that their feelings quickly went from friendship to mild irritation to a cold hardened dislike by the time they were in Welton together. Of course the whole betrayal and breaking of the nose didn't help too much either.

Though when they met years later by chance Charles 'Nuwanda' Dalton III and Richard Cameron III decided to let bygones be bygones and get roaring drunk together.

"Remember that time that Meeks convinced Hagar that it was a leap year so we got an extra day to study! Oh man, he was so ginger then"

"Dude you're ginger!"

Richard Cameron III hiccuped, "No but he was like...more ginger. I mean he'd get sunburned on a cloudy day!"

"He's The Ultimate Ginger."

"Oh ya, totally The Ultimate Ginger, pale and sickly and freckled. Right?"

And that's when Charles 'Nuwanda' Dalton decked him for the second time in his life. Because no one got to call Steven Meeks The Ultimate Ginger but him.

_Cameron Kisses Dalton & Cameron Despises Dalton_

Rachel Cameron hates Byron Dalton but only to keep up with tradition. Richard Cameron IV likes Sebastian Dalton but only to defy tradition. So when all four of them got sent to the office for 'inexcusable behaviour' it was hard to know if the dean was more surprised that Rachel Cameron and Byron Dalton had been sent for making out in the chapel when they were well known as bitter rivals. Or that Richard Cameron IV and Sebastian Dalton had called each other 'A pompous footlicker' and an 'egotistical manwhore' respectively when they had been nearly inseparable since they had started school.

Though it did help clear up why Rachel Cameron seemed so fond of wearing scarves in May and why Sebastian Dalton had a voodoo doll with red hair that he was often seen sticking pins into.

_Dalton Befriends/Kisses/Punches/Despises/Ignores Cameron_

Sophelia Dalton had been lost and James Cameron (No not that one) had been the one assigned to finding her. Though it wasn't exactly hard to find someone with bright red hair wandering around the 2nd floor with a suitcase covered in painted on lightning bolts and a stuffed narwhal. He called out her name and introduced himself followed by a good 30 seconds staring at one another across the empty space. No doubt contemplating their mutual family histories and their various options in meeting. Finally when the silence was starting to get tight and uncomfortable she stepped forward extending her hand.

"Hi, I'm Sofie." She grabbed his hand, gave it a rather energetic shake before using it to pull him into her in a hard kiss. He pushed her away so of course she reacted in the logical fashion of punching him, or really more of a half-closed fisted slapping, against the side of his face. "Cameron I despise you." She snapped before stomping off in the other direction in as mature a manner as one can achieve while dragging alone a stuffed narwal.

"Wait! What just happened!" James Cameron (still not that one) called after her dazed and confused after the kiss and the subsequent blow to the side of his face. She ignored him but smirked to herself as she stalked off.

Sophelia Dalton was keeping her bases covered and her options opened.

* * *

**A.N. Sophelia, Sebastian, and Byron return, now with more kissing, voodoo dolls, narwhals, and of course Cameron's. **


	22. Morning

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Morning**

* * *

"This is Neil! Oh and also Todd but he's not on this message he just lives here, so you can leave messages for him too. We're not in right now, or maybe were ignoring your call but if you leave a message after the beep we'll get back too you as soon as we can! Unless, you know, we're ignoring you."

_**BEEP**_

"Hey guys, it's Steven I was just wondering if we were still going to-_...Charlie! What the hell are you-stop it! I'm on the phone! Fine, yes, LATER.- _Uhh...Sorry I was sayin-"

_**BEEP**_

"Ummm. I sort of, _accidentally_ got in a bar fight...Please pick up. This is my one phone call! Neil! Todd! GUYS!...Their going to kill me! You better not be ignoring this! ...You know what, screw you guys. I'm calling Charlie next time..._Fucking bastards..._

...It's Knox by the way."

_**BEEP**_

"Tooooooodders! Oh maaaaaaan listen to me Neil loves you soooooo much he wants to have your little freaky blond blue-eyed babies! Oh look he's here!"

"_Charlie! Give me the phone!" _

"_No! I'm telling Todd something! _Hold on answering machine Todd, your Man-Candy is trying to steal the phone. _You shouldn't be ashamed of your luuuuurve._"

_" I'm not! You're just drunk!" _

_"Your face is just drunk!" _

_**BEEP**_

"Have any of you guys seen Knox? We were supposed to go see a movie today but he didn't show up, apparently no one's seen him in days.

Oh and sorry I called you Man-Candy...and said you'd have freaky blond blue-eyed babies. I'm sure they wouldn't be that freakish."

_**BEEP**_

"I think I'm wearing your pants."

_**BEEP**_

"While the message was playing some guy came and asked me if I was having answering machine sex. I have a feeling that if you went back far enough that'd be Charlie Dalton's brain-child. Anyways, the reason I'm calling, I have to work late. Neil, I can feel you pouting on the other end of the phone, but look on the brightside, you can order take-out.

But don't get thai, it makes your mouth taste all weird."

_**BEEP**_

"It's Gerard...I think there's a ghost in my apartment..._what should I do!_"

_**BEEP**_

"I just got a message saying that you want me to come to Pitts' apartment because we need to go ghost hunting. Instead of going out and having a nice dinner like civilized people. I don't know why I have hung around with you as long as I have. And Todd let me just say I am surprised that you are participating in these shenanigans."

_**BEEP**_

"I love you."

_**BEEP**_

"I love you too."

_**BEEP**_

* * *

**A.N. So this was partially from a snippet written...literally years ago and the rest was sort of smashed onto the page in about an hour tonight. I'm not sure really fully what's happening but I think that's part of it's charm. Or hopefully it's taken that way. **

**-C**


	23. Dirty

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Dirty**

_1. Angela (But she doesn't count.) _

Knox had been 6 the first time he had fallen in love. Her name was Angela and she was beautiful. She knew all his favourite games, she always made him macaroni and cheese the way he liked, and sometimes she would let him stay up an extra hour at bedtime. He had expressed his love for her through crayon drawing after crayon drawing of their wedding and she would admire them before putting them up on the fridge. Angela was his favourite person in the world.

Or she was until one night he had snuck out of bed to catch one last fleeting glance of her through the banisters. Instead of watching her pull on her swishing purple coat he witnessed an event which would be his first glimpse of the cold betrayal of women. His mother was paying Angela and thanking her for watching him. She was never his friend. Only a cheap bought and paid for substitute. Knox shuddered to think, that his beloved Angela was a babysitter, how many other boys on the block was she playing rocket ship with? How many other boys did she make macaroni for? Knox ran back to his room and cried himself to sleep for the first time over a girl.

He saw Angela again after that night but her beauty had been tainted with the revelation that she was not his only. The games were a little less fun, the macaroni was a little less cheesy, and Knox no longer had the desire to stay up later, it was only another hour he'd have to spend with her. The next week when her boyfriend came to pick her up from his house he barely batted an eye, he had moved on.

_2. Frannie (But it was all in her mind.) _

It had been almost a year after the Angela-Incident when another girl waltzed her way into Knox's life. It had started innocently enough. Frannie Hodgeson asking him to sit with her on the bus, or sharing her animal, or giving him a red heart with lace glued around the outside, even though Valentines day wasn't for months. In hindsight he should have seen it coming when one day while he pushed her on the swings, her blonde pigtails flying behind her, she demanded to know when he was going to ask her to marry him. Knox was so shocked he had stood awe-stuck until the swing had continued backwards and literally stuck him.

He wasn't sure if it was the blow to the head, the resulting nose-bleed and loss of blood, or the question Frannie had popped but Knox walked around in a daze the rest of the day. A daze he was quickly snapped out of when at lunch when Frannie came up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. He wiped his hand against his faced disgustedly and prayed that the cootie shoot Richard Cameron had given him last week at the Country Club was still good.

"Whaddya do that for!" He demanded. Glaring at her, but she ignored him and stuck out her hand, where on the fourth finger she had stuck a penny ring from the gumball machine.

"We're married now, it's official!" Before Knox could protest she kissed him again and ran off to her friends ponytails bouncing in a way that Knox had started to despise. Despite all efforts to deny that himself and Frannie had been bounded in holy matrimony word had gotten around so quickly that by the end of the day _everyone_ knew that they were supposedly in love. So Knox did what he had to do; he gave her a worm. It's not something he's proud of but it had to be done, the moment the slimy little bugger touched her hands she screamed and yanked her "wedding ring" off her finger, throwing it to the ground. As he watched Frannie stomp off Knox breathed a sigh of relief to be rid of her.

Though he had to admit he'd miss the animal crackers.

_3. Hannah (But he'd rather not think about it.)_

Hannah was the first girl Knox ever kissed. She was also his cousin. Enough said.

_4. Gretchen (But it was just from afar.)_

Well from afar might be a bit of an overexertion, two steps behind might be more accurate. Knox hadn't exactly been thrilled when his mother informed him he would be the ring bearer for his Aunt Lila's wedding, tuxedos and nine-year-olds who like playing games that involve rolling around on the ground don't exactly mix. However when, after being forcibly dragged to the rehearsal hall, he spotted Gretchen that all changed. Knox wasn't going to let an opportunity like this go to waste, so for the next 3 weeks on Thursdays and Fridays after school he got to watch her from two steps behind as Gretchen carefully mimed throwing flower petals onto the ground. He quickly feel in love with her careful movements, her dark silky hair, and her maturity. She had been ten at the time, but Knox wasn't going to let a little thing like age and some distance come between him and Gretchen. Besides he was a mature young man now, he could handle the needs of an older woman.

But it wasn't her needs that stopped him, it was his name. "I'm sorry who are you?" She asked, clearly embarrassed when he asked her to dance at the wedding. The way the white flowers shone against her hair had dazzled him so much he had nearly dropped the ring twice during the ceremony. He couldn't help himself from asking her to dance, he was expecting a thrilled yes not a question of his identity.

"I'm Knox...I was the ring...but you were...I was only..." He tried unsuccessfully several time to answer her before simply walking away his pride wounded. Knox had heard talk of distance ruining relationships, but he had never thought it would have been two steps away that had ruined his.

_5. Bernadette (But she didn't know.)_

Bernadette was an your typical story. Boy likes girl. Boy sends girl anonymous love notes. Girl is convinced someone else wrote them. Someone else doesn't deny they wrote them. Girl falls for someone else. Boy is brokenhearted. Boy hates someone even though he doesn't know who he is.

Someone else is Charlie Dalton.

_6. Tammy (But it was impossible.)_

Impossible's a bit too strong a word, highly improbable or highly impractical was probably a better substitute. After all how are you supposed to have a real relationship when you live several thousand miles apart? They had discussed it of course, in their letters, while everyone else in their classes had wrote of baseball games and pets, Tammy and Knox had written plans. Maybe he could hitchhike, or they could save up money for an airplane ticket, that wouldn't cost that much, would it? The final blow came one sunny June day when the 5th graders received their final letter from their penpals. Knox had his fingers crossed that Tammy would have come up with a brilliant solution to keep their love going through the summer. Instead he received heart break courtesy of the US Postal Service.

_Dear Knox, _

_I'm sorry to have to tell you this but I've got a boyfriend now. He only lives down the block and he won't have to hitchhike to come see me. . Michael and I are going to his cottage in July, it's going to be the best! I hope that you have a nice time at your new school. I liked writing to you a lot. _

_Tammy_

_P.S. Have a great summer!_

Needless to say he did not.

_7. Celeste (but people just thought so.)_

Golden brown hair and green eyes framed with giant eyelashes, a sweet disposition, and an adorable french accent. Not to mention, very, very, _very_ off limits since Celeste's father was a friend of the family's. Of course they could be put in a position that would encourage marriage later, but not _now_what would the neighbors say? Anyways, Knox barely had time for girls now that he was at Welton and to be honest he had never even felt that way about Celeste. But he wasn't about to tell his friends that when her letter arrived for him in the mail.

"Whaddya get?" Charlie asked sticking his face in from behind Knox's shoulder. They had been good friends ever Knox had attempted to punch him after the whole Bernadette thing. Charlie had simply laughed and patted him on the back like a dog, "I like you, you can be friends with me." Thus was his way. Charming his way into people's lives. Innocent people. People like Celeste. Suddenly Knox had the overwhelming desire to 'protect her' from Charlie as illogical as it was.

"Uh, it's a letter from my girlfriend." Knox stammered out.

"Your girlfriend? You have a girlfriend?" Charlie raised and eyebrow in disbelief as they mounted the stairs advancing to hell on earth, otherwise known as first year Latin.

"What that's so hard to believe?" Knox muttered under his breath tucking the letter in the inside pocket of his blazer.

Charlie shrugged and sat down gesturing to the seat beside him. "I dunno, it's just all the stories you've told me in the past involve you getting rejected. Often for me."

"Once! It happened once!"

"So are you going to tell me about her or what?"

By the end of the period everyone seemed to be talking about Knox and his hot french girlfriend. Gerard Pits gave him several enthusiastic pats on the back (and by enthusiastic I mean painful) and even George Hopkins sort of nodded at him in an approving way. Of course as fate, irony, and the sake of a good story would have it Celeste was writing to tell him all about her lovely new boyfriend Philipe.

So Knox did what any sensible boy of 12 would do. He poked himself in the eye to make himself cry and he headed into the common room to tell everyone about that bastard Philipe who stole his hot french girlfriend.

_8. Sandy (But she had someone else.)_

Knox had thought Sandy Clements had been eyeing him up all night at the Henley Hall-Welton Academy Non-Denominational Winter Dance. So of course the obvious plan of action was to follow her outside when she left the dance giving him a long look and a slight head jerk towards the door. He wasn't exactly sure what he was expecting to happen. Maybe Sandy would admit her undying love for him, maybe she would give him a soft kiss, maybe she would use tongue (she was an older woman after all) he was ready to be surprised.

And seeing Sandy and some girl in a soft purple gown kissing softly in the snow had been a surprise alright. Knox felt the swelling that had warmed his heart when she had stared at him across the room (_her_ she had stared at _her _across the room) die a sad little death. He turned on his heel and headed back inside to eat half a dozen bite-sized brownies and watch Charlie get shot down.

But not before he had stopped to watch for a few minutes.

_9. Michelle (But he so didn't want to.)_

When Knox's mother practically begged him to go to the Country Club's annual youth dance with her friend's daughter Knox was sure he knew what he was getting into. She would be homely, or maybe overweight, but he would tell her she looked pretty, pin on a corsage and dance 4 slow dances with her before cashing out at the end of the night when his mother gave (payed) him a reward (cash) for his kindness (sacrifice). So when a beautiful girl with smooth tanned skin and legs that went from her to Tuesday answered the door he assumed his date had a sister. Needless to say Knox was floored with happiness when he realized this was his date.

Or he was until about 15 minutes later. Michelle was a bitch to put it lightly. She complained about the food, the music, the people, the club anything at all in fact. It seemed the only thing she didn't hate was the sound of her own voice. Knox excused himself but she didn't seem to notice and just went on complaining about the lighting. He found solace from Michelle in the behind the wall that separated the kitchen from view of the dining room.

"She's awful isn't she?" Knox jerked his head up and was surprised by the most unusual girl he had ever met. She had dark hair and almond shaped eyes so she must of been oriental but her accent was southern and smooth. A voice she had been talking with all her life. She balanced a tray of empty dishes on a platter which must have been heavy but she gave Knox a look like he was the one she felt badly for.

"She's here all the time with her mother, poor women, I don't know how she stands it." She marched into the kitchen and deposited her mound of dishes before coming back out. "So what's your name then?"

"Knox, it's Knox Overstreet."

She nodded carefully. "Well then Knox, Knox Overstreet would you like me to go tell your date that you've suffered a horrible food allergy and have to be rushed to the emergency room?"

"But I didn't eat anything"

She tossed her head back and laughed, a deeper fuller sound than Knox had expected from such a slight person. "Like she would have ever noticed, she was too busy complaining about the napkin folding."

Knox looked over his shoulder back into the dining room where he could see Michelle still talking about something or another and he dreaded having to go back instead of staying here with this interesting stranger. "I should really go back...but...I was wondering..."

The girl blinked at him and grinned, "Don't worry, a name like Knox Overstreet isn't exactly easy to forget. I'll find you, we have contacts for all over esteemed members." She said the last bit with a bad British accent.

Knox grinned back at her, and with that calming piece of advice he thrust himself back into the dining room. "Wait, what's your-?"

"It's Bebe." She smiled before hauling a tray onto her should and heading across the dining room in the opposite direction.

Knox headed back to his table. Her name keeping his head light and sunny while Michelle stormed beside him. Bebe, Bebe, Bebe, Bebe...

_10. Bebe (But she didn't call.)_

Knox realized almost a year later that they were registered under his stepfather's last name. At least he hoped that was the reason Bebe never called.

_11. Siobhan (But it was just one kiss.)_

He doesn't actually remember her, but Neil has the polaroid to prove it. According to him they had gotten cozy on the coach after Charlie had forced him to drink a whole bottle of peppermint schnapps. He vaguely remembers the coach though, it was cream coloured with yellow and orange flowers. He also remembers the shower curtain in the bathroom where he ran to sometime after he kissed Siobhan to throw up the peppermint schnapps. At least he _hopes_ it was after he kissed her.

_12. Chris (But it was just one date)_

It seemed like a pretty open and shut case. Boy awkwardly woos the Girl of his Dreams despite her Meathead Boyfriend, The End. But apparently it has a sequel called; Meathead Boyfriend Rises Again. Spoiler warning, the Meathead Boyfriend comes out on top after a series of threats and one nosebleed (though no punches were thrown) and Girl pretends the whole thing didn't happen. All the sparkle, all the effort, all the chemistry gone, erased, done.

It's the worst fucking sequel ever.

_13. Lottie (Yes, okay, she was his girlfriend. Don't ask him anymore about it.)_

They had the worst kind of break-up. A mutual one, where no one was to blame, where they had a good run and it just wasn't going anywhere from there. Knox wanted to hate her, wanted to take all of the pictures and mementos they had collected over the years and burn them. Ashes to ashes and dust to dust. But anytime he got up the nerve to collect anything he'd end up remembering how much fun they'd had together. It was the worst sort of break-up because although Knox had no real desire to get back together with the current Lottie he couldn't help but be jealous of past him who got to have fun with her.

He was over her so he couldn't get over her. Knox was the kind of guy who either hadn't been interested or had been rejected. Mutual relationship termination was sort of a new concept for him. Of course his friends were unsympathetic."Wait, so you want to get back together with her?" Charlie demanded over the phone.

"No! I mean, Lottie's still great but I'm different she's different, we hit the end of the road and we went separate ways." Knox tried to explain rubbing a hand across his forehead tiredly.

"Okay, I don't get what your problem is, if you don't want to get back togther why are you even bothering me?"

"What you're too busy to listen to my personal problems, thanks Charlie?"

"All of your problems are personal problems. I have homework. And a boy to lick. I'm a little busy." Charlie hung up. He never really got a hang of the saying hello and goodbye part of talking on the phone. One time he answered and started telling Knox about how if you just use a lowercase l as an I you could save a lot of time. It wasn't exactly an answer but Charlie was a good distraction for a Not-Broken-Heart.

_14. Charlie (But it was all a mistake)_

When repeating this story, even when only to himself, or later on his therapist, Knox always lied and said he was significantly more intoxicated than he actually had been. The following events that transpired were more due to extreme loneliness and a momentary lapse of sanity than anything else.

It was really Pitts' fault. If he hadn't insisted they carpooled together to the restaurant they never would have been waiting together and Pitts never would have pointed out Meeks and Charlie playing footy under the table rather indiscreetly. "If you had told me 3 years ago they would get together I never would have believed you."

Knox raised his eyebrows, "Really? I mean I was surprised, but it did explain a lot."

"I guess. But I always sort of though Charlie liked you." And with that startling piece of information Pitts walked off towards the table and left Knox standing slackjawed in front of the hostess. He was still contemplating this several hours later when they had all relocated to the bar, Meeks and Pitts had wandered off somewhere, probably to calculate the angles of the pool table or whatever it is that engineers do for fun. Knox and Charlie were both comfortably buzzed on some strange shots that Charlie had insisted on ordering for them. Knox hadn't really been thinking of anything at all when he leaned over and kissed Charlie. Who promptly shoved him away and whacked him against the side of the head before whiping his mouth off in disgust.

Of course this would be the moment that Steven would show up, fate and irony were teaming up against him again. Now instead of attempting to explain or at the very least put some of the blame on Pitts (He had put the stupid idea in his head after all), Knox came up with a very intelligent; "Uuuuuuhhhhh".

Which hadn't really mattered in the long run seeing as Meeks was already out the door with Charlie following after him in a panic running a hand through his hair. Knox watched speachless for the second before Pitts came and sat beside him. "Hey Knox, have you ever been abducted by aliens? Because there seems to be a problem with your brain being missing."

_15. Connie (But he's undecided.)_

He's pretty sure Meeks set him up with Connie partially to show that there were no hard feelings and partially to tell him to stay away from his boyfriend. Either way Knox was pretty happy with the arrangement. He didn't understand half of the things she said because she spoke so fast and jumped around a lot. But on the other hand the 50% he had heard was pretty interesting, though he wasn't sure how he had asked what he job was and somehow he walked away with the mating habits of dolphins.

Or how he had asked if she wanted to get some coffee and he ended up waking up to Connie making pancakes in one of his old shirts her hair pinned haphazardly around her face. Which was odd because he never did things like that and he hadn't even decided how he felt about her yet.

Though when she looked up and saw him standing in the doorway she grinned at him like she had a secret before turning back to the pancakes. And Knox decided that he could be okay with being undecided.

* * *

**A.N. Oh man I have so many people I need to thank, it's like an awards ceremony. Firstly thanks to Corky for the inspiration for Pitts' abduction speech, thanks to E. Lockhart and The Boyfriend List, the book on which the list I used it based. Thanks a million and five times over to Thyme, who not only supplied one very juicy line (I'll let you guess which) but is a constant cheerleader and inspiration. And big huge thank yous to everyone else who reads, reviews, and supports me in my wacky endeavors. **

**-C**


	24. Evening

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Evening**

* * *

This, Cameron decided, was the problem with boarding school.

Not the food, or the beds, or the lack of privacy, or even having to deal with Charlie Dalton on a near constant basis. No, the annual Welton Academy/Henley Hall Formal was much much worse than any of those things combined. What with all the girls schmoozing over the newly heightened duo of Neil and Pitts, while Charlie had sweet talked his way into a following of girls that only seemed to be multiplying as the night grew on. And of course Knox had found his Love-Of-His-Life-Of-The-Week and was shadowing her "subtly". That left Cameron with a sarcastic Meeks at a stupid back table in a chair with one missing foot so it tottered from side to side whenever he moved.

Oh and if that weren't enough a small group of girls their age, who looked more identical that usual, had gathered near the table in a little huddle and were stage-whispering and shooting looks over in Cameron's direction. Fan-freaking-tastic.

"You ask him!"

"No you!"

"Shhhh! I think he can hear us."

It wasn't that Cameron disliked girls, it was more the girls in combination with the dance. The way they huddled together so not only was it hard to approach them but even if you got that far it was nearly impossible to tell where one girl started and another began. As well these girls were from Henley Hall and hardly up to Cameron's standards but he guessed if they insisted he could manage a dance or two, just to be polite.

"Um hi," One of the Identi-girls had detached herself from the pack and was standing right in front of Cameron so her chest was right at his eye-level. Needless to say he was enjoying the view. He looked up, her face wasn't as pleasing he noticed, a little too round and he ears stuck out just slightly, still her breasts more than made up for it. He could definitely force himself to dance with her. He adjusted his tie and stood up holding out his hand for her only to have a camera shoved in it.

"I was wondering if you could take a picture of us?" She pointed over her shoulder at where the rest of the group was still huddled. Cameron nodded mutely, shocked, as they arranged themselves and smiled at him, or at the camera rather. He looked at them through the viewfinder, letting them wait until their smiles had become slightly strained and awkward from the waiting, before taking the photo. The Indeti-girl thanked him before wandering off to lure in more unsuspecting boys with her fantastic breasts. Poor saps, they'd agree to anything and then they'd see her face and see what a crappy deal it had been. Cameron was thankful actually all she wanted was a photo.

That was the real problem with girls, you might be able to find one who had some good things going for her but never all of them. Like she'd be fit and blonde but her teeth would be crooked or she'd have nice eyes and hair but be on the heavy side. Cameron wished that you could just pick and choose. Like arranging cue cards for debate club. He shared this rather inspired-in his opinion-idea with Meeks who just looked at him as though he had dribbled down his shirt.

"I know where you can find your perfect girl, just go into a department store and lift a mannequin. God, only you'd say something like that. Don't you think part of the reason certain parts of people, physical or otherwise, are so great is because they have the not so great mixed in as well? Like if someone was a complete jerk sometimes or blew you off to go hit on some skanked up chicks but could be really emotional and sweet and funny-Or you know something like that, those were just things off the top of my head." Meeks who had started to lean forward and look off into space during his little speech had abruptly thrown himself back into his chair near the end and glared at the ground. What a weirdo.

That was the problem with Meeks. First he'd give you 'the look', the one that was halfway between pity, annoyance, and amusement. The kind of look you give a dog who peed on the carpet. Then he'd go on about how you were wrong, and then all of a sudden he wasn't just proving you wrong it was like he was talking about something else, something that you weren't involved in. An inside joke without a punchline. But he was smart so Cameron put up with him.

"Alright then...well I guess I go look for a department store then." Cameron said edging up out of his chair not wanting set Meeks off again and get another weird speech. Instead he headed to the punchbowl, it was better to look like a tool then get a lecture about his expectations in women. There isn't anyone else around except a beautiful girl in a conservative red dress who is standing in such a way that completely blocks the table. Even though her body postion is completely uninviting her body isn't. She's got a killer figure and a face that's symetrical to the point of being a little bit harsh. It's attractive on her though. Cameron rubs a hand over his hair and straightens his jacket before moving in for the kill.

Though what happens next both scares him and only makes the mystery girl more attractive.

"If you're thinking about spiking this you can forget about it! I saw you come with that Dalton kid and I know the type. Stupid, womanizing, and completely irresponsible! If you're anything like him I can have a teacher escorting you out in 3.5 seconds." She hisses the second he gets into ear shot. Cameron holds up his hands in the universal signal of surrender. But he can't help but smirk.

He's just found his mannequin.

* * *

**A.N. Bootlicker love. You've got to...uh love it? Something like that. **


	25. Loss

**Disclaimer: Violets are blue**

**Roses are best**

**I don't own the rights**

**To DPS**

**For Haykatsi, who has been waiting forever. I hope it's everything you could want in a story about muffins. **

**The Cloudy Side of Life: Loss**

Once upon a time in a magical place called Welton Bakery lived 7 mischevious little muffins. There was Neil, the chocolate chip muffin who wanted to grow up to be a chocolate cake, even though his father thought he should be a pound loaf. Next there was Todd, a freshly baked blueberry who Neil had taken under his wing, er, wrapper. Charlie was a rather frivolous muffin, coffee cake, hardly even a real flavour according to his father. And Knox, sweet lemon cranberry who had gone and fallen in love with a cupcake who wouldn't even give him the time of day. Though why muffins would need to know the time is a mystery to me.

Anyways, where were we? Oh yes, I was just about to introduce Cameron, now he was an oatmeal muffin, a flavour which nobody really likes but puts up with. As opposed to Pitts who was delicious and nutricious chocolate bran, which was hands down everyone's favourite flavour. And of course last, but not least was Meeks who was Ginger flavoured.

Also a mini-muffin who was named either Skippy or Sam (nobody really knew) but he's not important to the story.

Neil, Todd, Charlie, Knox, Cameron, Meeks and Pitts spent their days learning how to grow up to be successful baked goods by following the four pillars. Taste, Homemade, Decadence, Excellence. They were all content with this life, if not slightly bored, but they were all satisfied with life at the Bakery.

That was until a new cake rolled into the shop. His name was Keating, a lemon loaf as wise as he was delicious. He filled the boys heads with ideas about the world of baked goods that they had never experienced before. He told them to rip the introduction out of the cookbook and he encouraged them to go after their dreams. However it was only when the boys discovered about the Dead Pastry Society that they really started living their lives to the fullest. Inside the old Indian Oven (which I guess you'd make naan in) they told stories and read the works of great pastries past and living deliberately sucking all the cream out of life. (Which Charlie made many a dirty joke about.)

Unfortunately this couldn't last forever. Neil's father found out about his dream to be a cake, which he called selfish and shallow. Neil tried to argue with him but in the end it wasn't enough and he was sent by his father to another bakery. Poor Todd was left all alone in his display case while he waited for Neil to come back, not knowing that he had been sent away.

Charlie had the duty of telling him that Neil and all his chocolately goodness were gone. Todd was not going to give up on his friend who had never given up on him. And together with Charlie, Knox, Pitts, Meeks, and Cameron (but mostly Meeks) they came up with a cunning and clever plan to save their friend.

Bouncing one after another they quickly escaped through the backdoor that night while everyone else was sleeping tucked into their display cases. They made a tower, one on top of the other so that Todd could jump onto the back of a delivery truck to search for Neil.

In quite possibly the best twist of fate ever Neil had had a simillar idea and had escaped from the military bakery he had been sent to and made his way onto this same truck. He had just been contemplating jumping off the back end off the truck when Todd jumped into it. They both turned and stared at each other while everything went into slow motion and music started playing. Neil jumped over to Todd and tackled him passionately while the others cheered below.

So after that Neil's dad was totally cool with his acting, er, I mean cake thing. Everyone learned how to live deliberately and suck the cream out of life (shut up Charlie!), They all grew up together and Neil and Todd had a whole batch of adorable little chocolate-blueberry muffins and they all lived happily ever after!

The End.

"Neil?"

"Ya Todd?"

"That is the last time we let Pitts tell a bedtime story."

"Agreed."

**A.N. MUFFINS! I hope it lived up to it's expectations, and that the 'talking' type style was realistic and not annoying. Anyways, this is the last one so I hope everyone had a rocking ride and I just want to say thanks to everyone who's supported me and the fandom in general. Especially Thyme who has been there from the beginning and gave me the kick I needed to branch out into different styles of writing. **


End file.
